


Yugen

by FloraOne



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, I'm shamelessly combinging everything I like here, Infinity Arc, Mamousa, Sailor Moon S, Sailor Moon Stars, Stars Arc, Usamamo - Freeform, s, sequel to ikigai, some hints of reinako
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-11-06 13:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 157,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloraOne/pseuds/FloraOne
Summary: Sequel to Ikigai. All assembled now, it's the girls' and Mamoru's turn to face the world, and defend it - while professor Tomoe is meddling with Senshi DNA in his daimons, Ami is trying to make sense of whatever happened in the Silver Millenium and these three pop idols are joining Usagi's class. Pairing is still very much UsaMamo, set in S AND Stars, and meddling with it all!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yūgen (幽玄) – (n) "means to have a deep awareness of the universe around you, which triggers an emotional response too deep and powerful for words ".
> 
> It is an important concept in traditional Japanese aesthetics. The exact translation of the word depends on the context. In the Chinese philosophical texts the term was taken from, yūgen meant "dim", "deep" or "mysterious". It can mean to be aware of your small placement in this vast mysterious world, or to have an inkling of how full of potential and life this universe is that you can never fully grasp, the transcendence and dark beauty in it, the way the world is at once eternal and ephermal, fleeting.
> 
> Disclaimer: Yeah. I don't own Sailor Moon. Or any of those other pop culture references I frequently make. Sadly.
> 
> This story is a sequel to my first story "Ikigai" – I guess you could read it as a Canon Divergence S&Stars AU fic all on its own, but if you get confused, you know where to look for the first one ;)
> 
> oOo
> 
> AN: There we go guys… I said I'd come back with a sequel in around ninety days. Well, it's been 54 days and here we are, with the Prologue and First chapter of Yugen, the sequel to Ikigai.
> 
> SO…
> 
> I know lots of you guys have been hoping I'd let them find the Outers (i.e. let the Outers find themselves) in much the same way as I did with Ikigai.
> 
> Ikigai was about finding themselves, choosing this life, instead of being forced into it. That story is finished. I won't be doing the same with the Outers, I'm very sorry. I did that only with the Inners particularly because in canon 90s this already happened with at least Haruka and Michiru (AMAZING AMAZING Episode 17, Sailor Moon S, anyone? If that's not about figuring this shit out together and making a conscious, life-changing decision about this all on their own, I don't know what is! And I wouldn't change a thing about it. This is how they happened.) – they DID awake on their own, choose this life and destiny, and in my head this also would have happened here, so I had no need to twist this up. Canon already gave those two free choice, and working this shit out on their own, and it was beautiful, and I'm good with that. Those two didn't need Ikigai, the Inners did.
> 
> Yugen is a new storyline now, set after the origin story of sorts that was Ikigai – they have all found themselves, now they go out into this baffling, endless world that is our universe.
> 
> I'm gonna let you dive right in, and talk to you again soon in a different note ;)

Prologue

L

"Look, Usagi-chan, snow!"

Usagi blinked and looked up from her task – weaving reddish pink streaks of hair into pigtailed buns – and out the window. She blinked. She was right, it _was_ snowing. In November already? Usagi frowned. She was slightly alarmed, thinking maybe some of Kaguya's Snow Dancers had resurfaced, but shook her head, clearing it. Impossible.

Also, the little bundle of energy whose pink hair Usagi was currently putting up (in heartshaped buns this time. Sometimes she made them cone-shaped, too, she could never quite decide on one.) was far too excited and infectious in her joy to be thinking of any gloomy thoughts right now.

She was practically bouncing on the chair of Usagi's vanity, large almond shaped red eyes beaming with so more happiness and excitement than Usagi had ever seen on the child's face. It made her throat constrict a bit, after all, the poor thing had seen and witnessed so much horror in her world.

Usagi twisted one last strand of hair around the second bun and fastened it with bobby pins. The little heart shaped buns looking so ridiculously cute on the girl that Usagi couldn't help but beam with pride at her handiwork, and then proceeded to put little bows in them for good measure that matched the black bows on her dress. "There you go, all done," Usagi said proudly.

Bright red eyes beamed into the mirror and she hopped from the chair, giving a little twirl in her adorable little yellow dress that Ikuko had bought for her the other day. It had cute puff sleeves and three horizontal black stripes on it that were decorated with bows, and in her black tights that she wore with it, she looked like a doll. A very excited doll.

"All ready?" Usagi asked.

She received a big happy nod, and Usagi had to chuckle. She grabbed her purse and together they made their way downstairs and into matching red shoes, the both of them, and thick coats to keep them warm in what looked like it might become a snow storm.

Ikuko poked her head into the hallway, concerned. "Will you be alright in that weather? Do you have your mittens? Both of you?"

Both girls held up mittened hands for Ikuko to see who had to chuckle a bit. Ikuko did tell her time and time again how alike they sometimes were….

"We're fine, Ikuko-Mama!"

"But you have your phone?"

"Yes, Mama, don't worry."

And with that they were off, tiny hand clutching hers, bouncing happily through the snow. And for a moment, it really did feel as if this was her little sister whom she was bringing to see her favorite idol, who promised Usagi that he was going to sing a song just for her little sister.

She exclaimed happily when she saw that the parked cars already had a film of snow on their windshields, and slipped her hand out of Usagi's to bounce up to the nearest car and drew a big smiley face in the snow, standing on her very tippy toes.

And from behind as well, the little odangoed child could pass as her sister so easily… They put up her hair like that on purpose, of course, she was passing for a Tsukino child after all, and nobody in her family had red eyes and pink hair, so they had to make her look as similar to Usagi as possible, to hide her from the people that were after her, and also, to just make no one question who she was, of course.

They couldn't very well tell the truth about her, after all; that she fell from the sky one day, this quixotic and unworldly child, traumatized from a war she had witnessed in her world, with no idea who she was, not even her own name.

Usagi had felt an instant connection to this child, deeply. There had been no question on whom would take her in, and Ikuko had immediately suggested that they hide and protect her as Usagi's sister, in their home, Ikuko's heart going out to the small kid right alongside Usagi's.

Usagi had given her the nickname 'Chibi-Kijo' – Small Lady – because it had felt right to her, and the child felt so important, so _royal_ somehow.

And Chibi-Kijo had an idol. Which just happened to be Seiya. So, after the disaster last time, when she'd brought the girl to a Three Lights concert that just happened to get attacked and they had to scurry her away to safety before she could meet Seiya backstage, and afterwards, when they'd stopped talking to them….

But now, now they were finally on their way for her to meet Seiya, and Chibi-Kijo was so, so happy.

They got there fairly quickly, to that little studio loft apartment meets practice room that somehow always felt so very unfitting for the idols that they were in Usagi's opinion. Usagi had barely pushed the bell button before they were buzzed in and walked up the flight of stairs to their loft.

And where Chibi-Kijo had practically bounced all the way here, she was suddenly very shy going up, as children sometimes were, and practically hid behind Usagi.

"Oi, Odango." Seiya appeared in his doorway, tone as flirty as always, and Usagi rolled her eyes, yet skipped a beat as she always did when Seiya addressed her in exactly the same way that Mamoru used to do. "So where's your little sister?" He winked, obviously seeing the pink haired head protruding behind Usagi's coat.

Usagi stopped in front of Seiya, smiling gratefully, and tapped her mittens against her coat repeatedly to beat the snow off of it before they entered, while trying to hip-check Chibi-Kijo to come forward. "C'mooon," she said. "Don't be shy _now_ , you were so excited! Be polite and say hello!"

Tiny feet scuffled forward, face flushed crimson, and Chibi-Kijo managed a meek and high-pitched, very shy, "Hello."

Seiya was about to be his always charming self, Usagi could see that in his playful smile, but for whatever reason, Seiya froze when he looked at the girl, and drew a shaky breath.

"Odango…" he said, eyes not straying from Chibi-Kijo, his voice laced with some strange emotion Usagi couldn't place. "This isn't really your _sister_ , is it?"

L

_More of a teaser, really, I know ;)_

_But let me know what you think!_

_Chapter 1 is coming right up_


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This story is rated T for now, but, most definitely (probably, lol), I'll move it up to M as we progress further into the story.
> 
> Also: A HUGE HUGE incredible big thanks to my friend UglyGreenJacket, who has been encouraging me writing this ENDLESSLY, and who is making sure you're not suffering under the fact that I'm not a native speaker, this time around, as she is getting rid of all my mistakes for you beforehand ;)

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

L

Usagi looked at herself in the floor length, golden-framed mirror that was propped decoratively against the wall in the dressing room of the trendy little boutique she was currently in. She smoothed her hands over the soft fabric of the black dress she was trying on, the dress flaring out around her hips.

It was gorgeous. In the front it looked really modest, high-necked, basically; a straight Sabrina-cut neckline that only allowed for the very tip of her collarbones to peak out over the top hem, no sleeves, just a little string of a strap that went around her armpits to hold the thing up, and then when she turned around, it was all party. Completely backless up to the start of the waistline of the flaring skirt. It was short as well –though not as short as most of the skirts she usually wore, just short enough to highlight the length of her legs – but the hem of the skirt had a very cute punched out doily detail, rounded and delicate, that made it very cute despite its sexiness.

Mamoru has picked it out, and she could feel he liked it too, even though he wasn't so much as moving a muscle in his face, seated with his arms and legs crossed against the wall behind her on a plushy red velvet ottoman. He was the picture of patience, nonchalance, arrogance and style the way he sat there, nose turned slightly upward, his dressy dark pants cut so narrowly that they followed his contours exactly, his vest matching his button down expertly.

It was for Minako's benefit, that slightly arrogant and chilly body posture, the set of his jaw and challenging arch of his eyebrows, daring her to admit he'd made a very good choice with that dress but pretending as if it didn't matter to him either way.

Minako, on the other hand, was almost grinding her teeth beside her. She had five other dresses slung over her arm, all of which had been of her choosing and Usagi had already tried on twice. Usagi knew she was miffed that Mamoru came along in the first place, but he always seemed to insist when he heard the name 'Minako' combined with the word 'plans'. And well, Usagi had also _liked_ the idea; going shopping with the two fashionistas in her life – if they could only get _along_ that was.

On top of that, she knew Minako's patience was wearing down, and well, Usagi really couldn't blame her.

At Minako's feet lay two bags full of clothes that Minako had all tried on, decided over, and bought in the first few stores they had been in, while Usagi had yet to decide on something. Even _she_ realized how indecisive she could be, and yes, Mamoru had had the longer training in getting used to her infuriating indecisiveness, and also in masking his moods, and Usagi was pretty sure that that fact alone was doing its part in driving Minako up the wall as well; that he could stay so calm and collected and she couldn't.

If it weren't so constantly taxing and making her life so difficult, it would almost be funny to Usagi how _jealous_ these two were of each other.

Usagi smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the dress and turned sideways to see the back of it better. Then she reached into the top hemline of the dress, and pulled out her necklace from underneath it which her father had had made for her, to test how it looked over the high-necked front of the black little number. The silver crystal gleamed in the fluorescent light of the changing room.

It looked pretty – not that she was actually planning to wear it on display like that, but it did look pretty, the clear crystal pendant over the simple black front of the dress.

Minako wrinkled her nose at the very obviously and objectively amazing dress in the mirror. "That's too classy for you. Too elegant. Too graceful. It's just not you. Not loud and cheerful enough."

Mamoru raised one perfect eyebrow. It was the only movement he made, arms and legs still crossed as if he was posing for a magazine. "Excuse me?" he said, challengingly, "Usako is plenty graceful. The concepts aren't mutually exclusive."

Minako huffed, and flittered around Usagi, tugging here and there, turning her this way and that. "Well it is. She's not as elegant. She's _Usagi,_ not Serenity."

Mamoru gave a chortled, sarcastic laugh. "Oh _that_ 's rich coming from _you_ of all people."

Usagi saw Minako draw a sharp breath, and turn around to glare at Mamoru openly, instead of just through the mirror like before, and Usagi groaned, almost a growl. " _Guys_ , _stop_ it already. I'm _so_ sick of this... " She said, and Minako's mouth closed again and both of them looked sheepish enough when Usagi glared at them through the mirror. "Birthday wish remember? You promised."

Minako looked abashed at that, and although Mamoru still wasn't pulling a muscle in his face, his stance had loosened a bit, his back had straightened, and the eyes he looked at Usagi with had turned softer. She knew this meant he was feeling sorry. So with that, he wordlessly extended a hand and drew open the curtain of the changing cubicle next to him for her, and pulled it back closed once she was in.

She looked at herself in her mirror, the dip of her neck, the way this stunning dress seemed to hug her curves… and then she let her shoulders slump, sighing. Her 17th birthday had come and gone two weeks ago. She had been so moved that they'd prepared a surprise birthday party for her at the Hikawa shrine. Mako-chan had baked the most sinfully luscious cake she'd ever seen, in the shape of a bunny completely smothered in cream, and they'd invited some of her other friends as well– only a few, it was a small cozy thing, but utterly lovely. The Furuhatas had brought a team supply of milkshakes, Minako had brought a disco ball and turned Rei's room into a makeshift dance floor, and Umino had twerked a bit on Rei's bed, giving Rei disturbing dreams ever since that she'd been complaining about almost daily.

It had been wonderful, she'd had so much fun and was so utterly happy and content… for the first three hours at least, and it would have stayed that way, if it hadn't been for those two.

All the while, during all the preparations and the evening itself, Mamoru and Minako had bickered relentlessly. Over who would pick her up and bring her to the shrine ("I practically _live_ there. It doesn't make _sense_ for me not to bring her."), over who would take care of making the playlists ("Excuse me, _you_ wanna do that? It's not gonna be some _jazz_ affair." – " _No_ it's not, it's gonna be _her_ favorite music, which I happen to _know_. Remember where this whole thing is about _her_?") and it had driven Rei especially insane. She'd blown her top at the party, saying these two could either get their act together or they could leave the shrine right now, and well, Usagi hadn't been very amused either. So, Minako and Mamoru had been sullen and quiet for the rest of the evening, and even though the party was still nice and fun anyway, it had affected Usagi. And when Makoto asked Usagi to make a birthday wish, she'd made one, openly. She'd wished for Mamoru and Minako to try to get along... or at least to try and be civil towards each other.

Which was where they were now, trying, and mostly failing, to be civil towards each other, for her benefit.

Usagi sighed again, pulling the dress over her head and putting it back on the hanger. She loved them both so, and they loved her. _Why_ couldn't they just get along? Why couldn't they just let these _centuries-old grudges_ go already? Minako blamed him for things that were just as much Usagi's fault as his – even if they were valid, both she and Mamoru got that now – and Mamo-chan… he was _so_ scared Minako might change Usagi's opinion of him…

She drew the curtain back, dressed in her own clothes now, and surely enough, Mamoru was hovering just in front of it, on his feet now, hands buried deep in his pockets –as they always were when he was unsure – and Minako standing to the side, dresses slung over one arm, her free hand placed huffily on her hip at an angle – as it always was when she was unsure.

Usagi sighed, and held up the black dress Mamoru has picked out. "I'm taking it. It's cute."

Mamoru couldn't refrain from shooting Minako a triumphant, smug look, before looking sheepish yet again when his girlfriend glared at him for it.

Then Usagi walked towards Minako and fished one of the dresses out of her stack: Yellow, silk, with playful black embroidery on it and a sweetheart neckline. "This one, too. It's perfect." She said, and this time it was Minako's turn to look at Mamoru smugly, who rolled his eyes in answer.

Usagi blinked in surprise when Mamoru took the dresses off her and proceeded towards the cashier to buy them for her, which, again, made Minako roll her eyes.

He carried the bright pink bag, slinging it over his shoulder along with his book bag, then held the door open for Usagi, and she blinked again. It wasn't that he didn't do this for her often – pay for something for her that she wanted sometimes, carrying her bags, holding doors – he just didn't usually make such a _show_ of it. And she knew for a fact he was doing it to display himself as the perfect, cavalier boyfriend in front of Minako, to give her no reason at all to doubt how good he was to Usagi.

Usagi sighed once more. He really didn't have to do this… there was nothing _anyone_ could say to make her love him less. Not even Minako.

The moment they exited the very, very air-conditioned interior of the store, the hot summer air crushed in on them as if walking into a thick wall of heat, and the air felt pressing and thick, with dense waves of air shimmering and wobbling above the asphalt to the loud soundtrack of crickets in the air and people hurrying to get inside, anywhere.

It was the middle of July, and summers in Tokyo tended to be hot. Thankfully though, it wasn't humid for a change, as it had rained all night through, so even though the heat was relentless, it was at least dry, and very very sunny.

Beside her, as if synchronized, Minako and Mamoru both put their shades on at the same time, both with a casual single movement of their right hands – her cat-eye shaped ones, making her look like a Hollywood icon, his trusty black ones, the same ones he'd worn when he and Usagi had first met in front of Osa-P's all that time ago. Usagi had to smile at that, glancing up at him, while he winked at her through darkened glass and took her hand.

She sighed a bit. His hand was pleasantly cool, a far cry from her sweaty fingers in this heat, and she wondered for the umpteenth time how he _did_ that, wearing dark colors and sleeves no less, and not breaking a sweat at all, while she was puffing and flushing and dying from heatstroke after what seemed like three steps even though _she_ was only wearing a very flimsy excuse for a summer dress. She sighed and longed back for the air-conditioning of the store. Couldn't streets have air conditioning, too?

Now that she thought of it, Minako wasn't faring much worse than Mamoru. She looked the picture of poised beauty, and so, so stylish, not a stray hair in sight or a beat of sweat to be seen. So _utterly_ gorgeous.

_Unfair._

They stopped at a crossing a little ways away from the nearest metro station and she shaded her eyes from the glaring sun with her hand in order to see the neon of the traffic light, when two sets of sunglasses were thrust into her field of vision from both sides, and sure enough, Mamoru and Minako both glared at each other over her head for having had the same chivalrous idea.

Usagi wondered if there was a limit on how many sighs a person was allowed in a day.

The way back to Juuban seemed endless. It wasn't as if they weren't trying. She knew they were, so hard, but… well, this was _Mamoru_. He was an empath and a psychometrist, for god's sake, and he could feel Minako's irritation with him, which irritated him in return, and which, of course, Usagi could feel coming in waves off of him through their bond.

When they finally stepped through the sliding doors of the – gloriously air conditioned – Crown Fruit Parlor Usagi sighed in relief – both for the temperature adjustment and the sight of the girls in their usual booth, meaning Mamoru and Minako could now sit _far, far away from each other_.

Unazuki was standing in front of their booth when they approached, her tray tucked under her arm, obviously in a heated discussion. "— _Nooo way_ , but I thought… she looks so much like a man!"

Usagi snickered. Obviously, they'd just missed Haruka.

The three of them barely greeted the girls, and instead just slipped into the booth, Mamoru and Usagi on the one side, Minako on the other. "Crazy, right? Makoto and Minako both had such a thing for her, too!" Rei said, smirking, and Minako looked at her oddly.

"Well, actually, not even mentioning that gender binary is a _construct_ anyway, Haruka is _genderfluid_ —" Ami piped in, but trailed off. This was a complicated thing after all, even without the magical Senshi abilities matter, and the bit where it got complicated maybe not for Unazuki's ears. And well, the others were so passionate about that topic they talked right over her anyway. Usagi gave her a sympathetic smile. She'd spent the most time with Haruka and Michiru, out of all of them. If any of them knew Haruka was actually any gender, at her choosing, 100% female, but as many percents male up to a hundred as she wanted to be, then it was her.

"What do you mean with 'had'?" Minako said, commenting Rei with a raised eyebrow. "Excuse me, but Haruka is hot, no matter the gender." She said and then winked openly at Rei, who seemed to get a bit flustered – which Usagi wouldn't have been able to recognize if Rei didn't act exactly like Mamoru when this happened.

Mamoru raised his eyebrows in amusement, and Usagi frowned. Was she missing something here? When suddenly Minako shrieked and slid down from her seat in record speed to hide under the table, jolting it on the process so Makoto's milkshake almost spilled onto one of Ami's books, who then shrieked right alongside.

" _Minako_!" Ami chided.

" _Shhhhh—_ ", Minako hissed, hitting Ami's leg underneath the table while Usagi bent down to look underneath the table, head leaning against Mamoru's thigh, and Unazuki knelt down as well to get a better look.

" _What_?" Usagi asked, perplexed.

"Don't look, but that guy that just came in?" Minako hissed, and of course all heads turned towards the entrance. A brown-haired boy had entered, lean and fit, rather attractive. Usagi had never seen him before. The girls at least pretended to pass casual looks while Mamoru openly looked on at him in interest. " _Ah. I said don't look_!" Minako slapped all of their legs from underneath the table and Usagi rolled her eyes but leaned her head back beneath the table top.

"He's cute," Makoto said. Too loudly, in Minako's opinion, obviously, because it earned her another slap to the shins and a hush.

"What about him?" Unazuki smirked.

"I went on a date with him last week and then gave him a wrong number," Minako whispered.

"Why would you do that?" Makoto asked, frowning, not whispering in the least which earned her knees a thorough glare, and their eyes all went back to the obviously attractive young man, while at the same time and completely ignored Rei asked, "Last week? Didn't you go out with that artsy blond hipster guy from Shimokitazawa last week?"

"Because he's a horrible kisser. All sloppy and hard and a limp tongue." Minako answered Makoto's question matter of factly, and all girls at the table (minus Ami, she had stopped paying attention from the start) ' _Ah_ '-ed and looked away from the boy, suddenly having lost all interest in him, while Mamoru just shook his head, wide-eyed in a ' _too much information'_ kind of manner and looked at Usagi pointedly, with a look that asked _'Do_ _you tell them things like that about_ me?'

And obviously Usagi wasn't the only one who could read him like a book after all this time, because it was Makoto who answered and patted his shoulder mock-consolingly. "Of _course_ she does, Mamoru-chan. What do you think? We know everything."

The rest of the girls all shrugged, even Unazuki, though this time Ami blushed and picked up one of her books, flipped it open, and held it a little higher. Mamoru looked at Usagi appalled, who then flushed abashedly. "I only have good things to tell, I promise?" She said sheepishly, while Rei told Minako she could come back up, her ex-date had rounded the corner and was out of sight, and Unazuki was called over by a very impatient looking waiting customer at another booth.

"What, you _don't_ tell Motoki these things?" Makoto asked him with a raised eyebrow.

" _No,"_ he said, as if the very idea repulsed him, "Of _course_ not."

Makoto and Minako blinked at each other, dumbfounded and at a loss, completely incomprehensive on how this could be even possible. And slightly sceptic, as well. They, after all, knew the stories Motoki the gossip had to say, and knew very well about the two infamous nights that Mamoru had gotten drunk and talked nonstop.

Makoto raised her eyebrow at Mamoru, who flushed in annoyance and yanked out one of his textbooks from his book bag.

"Mamo-chan! Please!" Usagi said.

"What?" he said, flipping the book open nonetheless, "Ami's doing it, too!" he said indignantly, gesturing towards the blue haired girl that was practically buried in stacks of books and an opened notebook propped open upon a heavy tome, doing that very impressive thing where she scribbled away in it with one hand while the other hand was furiously typing away on her small netbook computer, which had some of Ami's crystals protruding from one of its USB outlets. Usagi shook her head slowly, sighing. Always the same.

"Keep me out of this", Ami mumbled without looking up from her notes.

Minako took a sip from Rei's straw, winking, to which Rei protested, somewhat blushing, then banged her fist on the table decisively, making everyone jerk up a bit. It served to get everyone's attention. She glanced around the café quickly, scanning it for possible eavesdroppers and finding none.

"So. Any news on Tomoe?"

Ami dropped her pen and sighed, then sat up straighter. "He's not _doing_ anything. I _know_ there is Chaos in his experiments and still… apart from that incident with the microwave…he only seems to self-test, and Hotaru-chan is not getting worse. "

Minako frowned. That professor was _creepy_. "So no changes in personality? Nothing odd?"

"Well, of course he's _odd_ … he's always been odd. But no more than usual. I really don't…. I really think he's just intrigued and studying it. I'm keeping eyes on it should anything happen, I promise," Ami said. "I've had 6 new cameras installed in his lab just last night."

Minako nodded, sighing. "Well, keep spying on him. We need to find out what's brewing there."

Ami nodded dutifully while Minako turned back to glance around the table. "Anything on the prophetic dreams front?" She eyed Rei first, then Mamoru with a bit more of a scowl in her eyes. Usagi rolled her eyes.

"Nothing new—", Rei and Mamoru both said at the same time.

Minako nodded, Usagi sighed. These patches of end of world mood, even though they'd been at peace for weeks while training with Haruka and Michiru, bothered her. Everything seemed fine – apart from that incident with the microwave of course – and she was being trained as if the world depended on her by those two, and Mamo-chan's dreams of Silence in the universe… Couldn't it all just stay away?

Usagi propped her elbow up on the table and let her chin fall into her hand. "How's Hotaru-chan doing?" She directed towards Ami.

Ami's look turned sour. " _No one's_ gonna touch her. I'm watching it."

They all got thrown out of their mood with the arrival of Unazuki back at their table, with a bucket full of smiles and cheer and black coffee for Mamoru, plus two frothy milkshakes for Usagi and Minako. "I'm _sooo_ sorry, you guys," She said cheerfully. "It took so long, but here you go."

Usagi beamed. They hadn't ordered when Unazuki had been over here chatting before, she'd just brought them their usual without them having to ask. And to her, that was one of the most brilliant things in the world. Not only was it now a normal appearance to be surrounded by her girls, no, it was so normal that she didn't even have to physically order her milkshake anymore.

Mamoru chuckled at her, reading her feelings, and she just shrugged at him in return, while Rei sighed at them.

"Really, guys. Words, you know?" she grumbled grumpily into her frappé, to which Usagi stuck her tongue out, and Rei replied in kind.

Some things just never changed.

They stayed for a while, and well into the early afternoon of what Usagi had coined "The Hottest Saturday of all Saturdays Ever, I Swear", before Makoto had to leave for her awaiting homework, Rei had to get back to her grandpa, and Minako had a date (of course).

It was just Ami and them tonight then, and Mamoru helped Ami pack all her belongings, carrying her bulky book-bag along to Usagi's shopping bag as they started off towards Usagi's home (Usagi had, on several occasions, insisted that Mamoru wasn't her personal pack mule, he didn't need to carry everything for her at all times, this was ridiculous, to which he'd usually grumbled, saying something about her _please_ letting him be a gentleman from time to time, and she'd at some point just dropped the matter, letting him carry what he wanted).

Once they exited the Crown, Usagi was once again reminded why she preferred the _indoors_ in Japan's Julys.

" _Uhhhhh_ ", she whined against the thick wall of heat, as if walking into the hot-setting of a hairdryer, except that there was no breeze involved at all, just lying there, thick and hot, unmoving air.

Thankfully, for once, next to her very annoyingly temperature-unaffected boyfriend, one of her companions was doing as awfully as she was in this weather.

Turns out their own personal snow princess didn't like the heat either. Ami's skin started flushing red and sweat poured out from her almost the second they stepped out the building, though she didn't make a peep about it. Ami had an unfair advantage though – after all, she could cover herself in a thin sheet of cold fog at moment's notice.

And when Usagi glanced over at her, all sweat gone from her brows, she could see Ami's hands covered in a thin sheet of clear substance.

She sighed longingly, until Ami, wordlessly, took her hand. When she withdrew it, seconds later, Usagi's hand was nice and cold.

Usagi sighed again, in relief this time, and held her newly icy hand against the back of her neck, where a thin sheen of sweat had formed.

" _Ahhh_ , you're the _best_ , Ami-chan," she moaned just under her breath, and Ami's lips formed into a quick, amused smile.

They arrived at her home in record speed of course, with the Crown being basically just around the corner from her house, right in the middle of her home district.

Mamoru had barely just turned the key (she still did love the sight of that, Mamoru with his own set of keys, had been so moved when her father had handed him one, at their New Year's celebration, half a year ago) and stepped into the genkan – the small entryway recessed into the floor of the hallway – when she heard her mother's lovely voice boom, in decibel's not unlike her own, a very hearty, " _OKAERI!_ "

" _Tadaimaaa,"_ Usagi and Mamoru replied in unison, on auto-pilot, bending down to take off their shoes, with Ami trailing just behind them, a shy smile on her lips that always came on immediately whenever she was around Usagi's very warm and wonderful mom.

"Konnichwa, Tsukino-san," Ami said politely once they'd stepping into the living room, and Usagi had to giggle over her mother's exasperated look in her eyes.

Ami was a harder case than even Mamo-chan had been, after all.

" _When_ , Ami-chan? _When_ will you call me Ikuko, dear?"

Usagi watched her mother sigh almost sadly. And she loved her mother just a tiny bit more in that moment for how inviting she was of her Senshi. Mako-chan and Mina-chan had both taken up the habit of calling her Mama 'Ikuko-Mama' for all the time they spent here, and Mako-chan especially was _almost_ a staple as constant as Mamoru at the Tsukino's dinner table now – Ikuko just couldn't have the thought of any orphan having to eat dinner by themselves.

Ami blushed, and after a bit more small talk with her mother and a quick "dinner's in two hours, Ami-chan!" called after her in Ikuko's motherly tone, she disappeared out and into the backyard and through the fresh new set of doors on the side of the yellow two-story house, hidden with a glamour, that led down to the Senshi command central.

Ami spent the most time down there, obviously. They'd debated for a while where to have it installed – this trans-dimensional pocket of a team lair, packed to the rim with fancy ass otherworldly tech – their first thought had been the Crown Arcade, as it wouldn't at least be suspicious of them to hang around there all the time, but in the end the Tsukino Household had quickly won, hands down.

Here, they didn't have to hide the station from so many people – only one, in fact, Usagi's little brother – seeing as Ikuko and Kenji were not only aware of their daughter's identity, but Kenji proved himself time and time again invaluable, getting them insider information that only a reporter could – especially this last winter with all the crazy things happening with Kaguya's comet, Pluto, and the talismans….

The time in which Ami had the command central up and going had been mind-blowing. Artemis kept saying he could have done it, too, _of course_ (at which they all usually rolled their eyes on cue), and he _did_ help her, obviously, but even he had to admit no one was better for the task than the reincarnation of the woman who had developed all this tech in the first place.

Ami had had shiny eyes when Artemis had handed her back her old Mercury Supercomputer, just a couple days after she'd chosen to be given back her old memories by Luna and Artemis. She'd been working calculations on her phone via her work server, cursing 'terran' inferior technology, when a tiny white paw had chucked a tiny blue console at her. _'Why don't you use this one?',_ he had asked her cheekily and Usagi would have sworn the only time she'd seen her friend react like this was when the two of them had reunited, again, in this life.

Usagi traipsed into the open kitchen to steal a popsicle from the freezer – it started melting as soon as it hit the summer air, even _with_ the air-conditioning set on high in the living room and walked back towards her boyfriend, offering him a lick from her icy refreshment, and he leaned over, nearly squishing poor little Luna in his lap, bending his head awkwardly to run his tongue along her popsicle.

Usagi had to giggle at the sight.

Mamoru had sat down in Usagi's usual spot on the couch (which had earned him a small withering look), just as Luna hopped into Mamoru's lap from basically nowhere, settling down with a soft little purr that Luna was always very adamant she _didn't_ do when clearly she _did_.

It was always like this. Basically, the minute Mamoru entered the house he had Luna in his arms.

Usagi sighed. She swore, sometimes she thought that cat got more Mamoru-cuddles than she did. And the gooey noises he sometimes made at her!

But… she _was_ awfully cute. Anyone would fall head of heels for her cat, even if they _weren't_ crazy cat-loving people like her boyfriend was. Turns out, even now with their growth having kicked in, she and Artemis did still grow _much_ slower than actual regular cat growth speed – had Luna been a regular cat, she would have reached full adulthood by now. As it was, she still had her shiny kitten-fur, and was also still _exceptionally_ small – kind of like a little teenie cat.

Which, yeah, basically she was, just one with a very old – _centuries_ old – very naggy and very adult soul in it, which loved to remind unsuspecting and innocent people of their homework, their duties, their training far too often and demandingly.

But still… even when she liked to complain about all of this, and the heat, and the training, and the Luna nagging… the picture of this, Mamo-chan reaching for a book while absentmindedly running his long tapered fingers through Luna's shiny kitty-fur… seeing this made her heart feel indefinitely fuller.

"So, what you did get?" Her mother called from the kitchen, and Usagi shook out of it, grabbed her bags and went to show her mother her glorious new dresses with a beaming smile.

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> So,
> 
> I'm guessing you're noticing the time gap. Yugen doesn't start right off where Ikigai left off. In fact, half a year has passed (so we're exactly one year later than the start of Ikigai now.)
> 
> AND... they haven't been twiddling their thumbs in between. Stuff has happened. But, the beauty of fanfiction, in my opinion, is that we all know this story, and can do this sort of thing.
> 
> So I'll keep dropping hints on what happened in between, but really, the story starts from here :)
> 
> PLEAAAASE let me know what you think
> 
> (cause I'm like... shitdamn nervous about this. You all LOVED Ikigai so, and so I'm scared shitless about Yugen. The preasssuuuuree. Especially cause this is a completely different story, with about 2000% more villains.)


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I got so emotional when I read some of your names in the reviews! Thank you so much for the warm welcome back, it feels a tiniest little bit like coming home!^^
> 
> And a giant thanks to my dear friend UglyGreenJacket (who also writes AMAZING USAMAMO FANFICTION btw, you should check her stuff out), who continuously makes sure that I'm not writing gibberish!

L

Chapter 2

L

As dinner ended, and Ami made her 'thank yous' and 'goodbyes' for no one but Shingo's sake who had come home late (even though she wasn't actually leaving), she walked back to the side of the building, for the second time that day.

With nightfall it had cooled down, yet she still felt the heat, immensely. She touched her cooled hands to her neck, fingering the too long strands of blue hair briefly. Her bob had grown out again, the hair now touching her shoulders. She'd have to get it cut this week.

She smiled a bit. Dinner with the Tsukinos was the highlight of her week, every time. She felt so welcome there, it felt so much like a home. And while she wouldn't say her mother and she had a bad relationship, there was just a different quality about it. They lived their lives apart from each other, she and her mother. They didn't play roles in each other's lives really, almost as her father didn't play a role in her life either.

It was different for Usagi. Usagi's family was as elemental to her life as anything else. They were smack in the middle of it, they supported her, they adored her… every side of her, and they knew them all.

Well, except Shingo of course. Shingo had no clue. It had been her parent's decision to keep him in the dark, keep him innocent of all of this burden of knowledge for as long as they could.

So, that was why poor teenage Shingo really had no idea why all these girls in Usagi's life were suddenly invading his home so frequently.

The Tsukino dinner table was an extendible one – and lately, ever since they had been assembled, and even way before Ami had finished setting up the command central underneath the house, hadn't even started it yet, that table had never gone back into its pulled in form. (She'd talked about it to Ikuko once, feeling guilty for always crowding their place on account of all of them – Ikuko's eyes had widened as she reassured her that she felt so relieved they were here all the time, that she could do this for them, care for them at least in a little way as they cared for her daughter in a way that she herself never could. That it was important to her and, in part, a small way she felt she could contribute, feeding them. It had moved Ami in a way usually only Usagi was able to…)

And it really was a beautiful thing… Makoto tended to bring dessert from time to time, and insisted on helping Ikuko prepare dinner other times, as Makoto, out of all of them usually was the one who came for dinner the most, and often spilled her heart out to Ikuko as they spent time together in the kitchen (as this was what happened whenever Makoto was cooking: She'd start talking without inhibition). It gave the two of them a relationship Ami was loathe to say she was somewhat envious of. She adored Ikuko, too, but she just didn't have a bond with her that was anywhere remotely as strong.

Shingo though… She really did get along with poor, little Shingo. He was always so nice to her, so happy to see her even when he was annoyed with all the other people present. Though as far as Ami could tell, he never let it show.

He was thirteen, going on fourteen fast, and in the past seven months that she'd known the boy now, puberty had hit him hard.

He was growing so rapidly, it was as if he was taller every week she saw him. When she'd met him first, he was a head shorter than his sister. Now, he was a good few centimeters taller than her and obviously still growing, gangly and slim, his movements turning sloppy and klutzy like those of a person who wasn't accustomed yet to longer limbs and muscles, his face dotted in pimples and his voice cracking and breaking, right in the throes of his vocal change.

And she imagined it would be quite hard on his pubertal mind for him to constantly have a throng of late adolescent girls at his dinner table, yet that was what happened. At least one of them, Ami knew, was always here, every day. Both Mako-chan and Minako had even started calling Tsukino-san 'Ikuko-Mama', even though Ami herself would never dare to be so assuming with Usagi's wonderful mother. And still, whenever Ami was here, Shingo was the picture of patience and maturity, though very shy – but she could relate to that, of course. But she had yet to find a way that he wouldn't blush when she addressed the poor, lovely boy directly, but she had set her mind to put him at ease, at least someday.

Ami walked to the control panel and it vibrated to life, lighting up, as she approached. Motion detection. She'd installed it herself, of course.

It had been one of the more expensive pieces of newer tech she'd installed, but well, if anyone had the money, it was her.

The sight of the command central was always comforting to her. This trans-dimensional pocket that appeared as though it was floating in space. It had this certain magical touch about it, and combined with its architecture that mimicked their old command central on the moon to the last marble pillar, it was a perfect replica.

She was rather proud of her work, and, needless to say, she spent a lot of time down here, researching. At first, the Senshi felt the responsibility to keep her company, when she was here outside of meetings so often, but by now most of them had understood that she best worked alone, and so they let her. Only Mamoru kept asking, everytime, if she needed help. He kept offering, but both of them knew it was because he wanted to be polite, not because he actually expected her to accept the offer. Still, it felt nice, and she appreciated it. Just as she appreciated that they left her to work in piece, only coming down once, like clockwork, in the evenings whenever she was there, to tell her goodnight before they went up to her bedroom and bring her a cup of cocoa when it was cold or a soda when it was hot. And sometimes Ami would leave early in the night, sometimes she would work well into it, but always mindful and conscientious about the work she might have the next day at Infinity.

She'd transferred all possibly 'incriminating' data from her lab here, brought every crystal, every ounce of Cardian matter she had dabbled with, lest Tomoe be onto her. It was all here now, her old lab stripped of everything that might suggest her to be more than she appeared to be.

She'd been so relieved to find the icy Cardian fog that contained her DNA sample untouched. That one had worried her, after she'd become Sailor Mercury.

She touched her earpiece – disguised as a regular earring, briefly, to set her constant connection to her Mercury Computer to be connected with the control panel instead.

" _Welcome back, goshujin-sama_ ", came the pleasant, artificial alto voice immediately.

"Hello, Athena." Mercury said, smiling, as she sat in the big plushy chair in front of the holographic screens.

" _Is there something I can do for you, goshujin-sama?_ "

Ami smiled. Gosh, she'd missed her Mercury Computer. Things had suddenly become way easier once she'd gotten Athena back. To think that she hadn't even remembered her months ago seemed almost like blasphemy now.

Athena, after all, the Artificial Consciousness Sailor Mercury had developed to help her during combat and to run complicated calculations for her almost millennia ago, was to her almost like a child.

She'd made the right decision when she chose to have her memories restored by Luna and Artemis. She'd not hesitated a second nor regretted it for any moment afterwards. After all, memories were, in the end, also just knowledge. There could be no fault in knowledge, and she truly had no idea why Makoto and Rei had chosen against having their old memories. Though of course she respected their decision, needless to say.

And it was fascinating, really, connecting and comparing her newfound memories to world history. How much of their ways still remained in echoes across time, through legends, religions and folklore, even though their ways and existence had been so entirely forgotten…

Serenity and Endymion were just a very obvious example, of course. And the greek myths held an abundance of references to knowledge almost forgotten. Their stories of gods were filled with references to the Silver Millennium and the Senshi… To have the planet Venus associated with love and eroticism in this way, down to Sailor Venus's old given name, Aphrodite… things like this were simply astounding. Some were less obvious of course, and somewhat amusing. The fact that mythology's goddess Artemis, next to her very strange association with the hunt and the wild, was linked to the taming of young girls – So one of their guardians, in fact the one guardian of the wildest girl she'd ever known, their teacher – his name went down in history as the tamer of women. Hilarious. And these associations were endless, all across the globe and their histories and mythologies… Uranus's echoes in the Mapuche Native American beliefs of their gods to be an entity that possessed both genders, and the more a person seemed to combine all genders the godlier he was for them, was just one of very very many examples.

Even some of world culture's genesis stories contained in them a knowledge that was forgotten. Knowledge of how its greatest civilization came to an end to be conserved in a creation story.. it was a very special sort of irony.

And so in Ancient Greece the people believed that before the world itself, there was Chaos, out of which the world was created. Little did they know they'd jumped the knife, being the only survivor in the solar system after Chaos has roared its monstrous deeds, dooming them all.

Though maybe,… maybe there was some truth in it. Humanity had to rise from the ashes after Chaos. In some ways of course it could be viewed like a beginning.

"Athena, would you please be so kind and draw up all our previous calculations about Chaos again?" Ami asked.

" _Of course_." Came the artificial voice from all sides, and not a second later all the holograms showed depictions of star systems, all across the Milky Way and even way beyond, some of them she'd found as far as Andromeda. All of them star systems that had been gutted and destroyed, like theirs. All of them studied and commented by Ami, with notes and charts and graphs and tables attached, estimating the time of extinction, and origin of ruin.

One of the foremost open ones was their Solar System of course. It's small table read:

Solar System, Silver Millennium Alliance

Date of Destruction in local time estimates: approx. 9000 years B.C.

Number of civilizations eradicated: 42 (if one counted all the moons, especially Jupiter's, that had been inhabited)

Origin of Destruction: Terran War under Queen Beryl, brainwashed by Chaos.

Catalyst: The secret marital joining of Moon and Earth

Form of Chaos: "Metallia"

And next to those were hundreds alike. Everywhere. Chaos had been savaging the universe all this time, unstopped, destroying star systems ever since, one after the other. It was a sight so devastating and at the same time infuriating to see, so horrible it shocked her to her core. For their galaxy used to be a hugely populated place. Almost every planet had been inhabited. But now… it was crushing to think that humanity had nowadays no account of other life in the universe, so much that most even doubted there was any, or had ever been.

The fact that Earth's surface and humanity had survived this attack was a miracle. One Ami highly suspected had been of Queen Serenity's doing, wielding the Silver Crystal upon final destruction.

The one that she had worked on latest was the most interesting, and equally most alarming.

Tau Ceti Star System

Date of Destruction in local time estimates: approx. 2005/2006

Number of civilizations eradicated: 4

Origin of Destruction: Unknown

Catalyst: Unknown

Form of Chaos: Unknown.

Best guess on account of received distress call in International Archive: "Pharao 90"

"Thank you," Ami said, ominously.

It didn't help Ami's concern on many accounts. For one, she had no way of discerning the current status of the Tau Star System. If any had survived. This problem lay, of course, in her mode of observation.

As all Senshi observation technology had been destroyed with Mercury's destruction, she had to rely on hacking terran Databases. The local Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency JAXA, as well as NASA, ESA, Роскосмос, China's CNSA, India's ISRO… the agencies were plenty, their ways of exploring space were not. Radio waves for intergalactic exploration, and light, mostly for intragalactic exploration.

So, this was what she had. Light-analysis of the Tau Star System. And as the Tau Star System was 11.8 lightyears away, every account she had of its "current" destruction was exactly 11.8 years old, when she observed the pictures that were taken of its light here on Earth at exactly this very moment.

It wouldn't do, of course, when what she really wanted to know where Chaos was rearing its ugly head right now.

But looking into the skies, like this, all she could ever see was the past.

And her other base for concern remained as well: If there was one thing ever-present at Infinity, it was graphic depictions of the Tau Ceti Star System. One of them in form of a painting that spanned the entire wall of Professor Tomoe's main office.

She needed help on this. She needed a better way of observation, and she knew just the person to call.

L

Usagi didn't have air-conditioning in her room, so instead they had the balcony door wide open with the moon shining in, and a big ass fan standing in its door frame, turned towards the room. Mamoru had draped a cold wet sheet in front of it, so the wind created by it went through the cold damp cloth first, and thus creating what felt like a cold breeze in the night air.

The first time he'd done that – for her sake only of course; he, after all, really wasn't affected by the heat – she wanted to nearly cry in relief, telling him what a genius he was, over and over, and he'd just rolled his eyes, taken off his clothes and went to bed, laughing deeply when he saw her raise her bum towards the breeze of the fan – something she _always_ did now.

They had an evening routine. If they managed to get studying done during the day (both of them), then at night they alternated their evening pastimes like this: Either they watched anime on her laptop (she did end up making that list, but usually didn't stick to it. They had started with Neon Genesis Evangelion – old and new – which he enjoyed much more than she would have thought, and ended up having philosophical conversations about it with Rei and Ami for days on end that Usagi didn't get, and then moved on to other things Usagi deemed 'classic' only to end up at shows she just really wanted to watch now - currently and repeatedly Yuri on Ice, which Usagi shipped the daylights out of and Mamoru kind of endured.) Or – in his version of their evening planning – he would read to her from a book he chose because he thought she would enjoy it – usually classical romances or clever science fiction.

Either way, she did love both versions of their nights, as they did always involve them lounging on her bed, mostly without clothes on. It was perfect.

And there wasn't even anything remotely mysterious or sensual about the whole thing –

After almost a year of relationship and routinely sleeping in the same bed (plus, of course, the added years of marriage in a past life in which they, sadly, could count the times they were allowed to sleep together in the same bed off of one hand, which made this even more blissful, here, now), they reveled in the simple, mundane normalcy of it.

Normalcy so utterly normal as normal could be that it, usually, looked something like this: Usagi took her bra off the minute she entered the bedroom at night with a relieved sigh and would demand the shirt he wore currently, which he then gave up with a more annoyed sigh. They would sit or lie in her bed, him in his black boxer briefs, her in his shirt, either reading or watching something on her laptop. She would itch in weird places and he'd scratch them for her. Sometimes one of them would be gassy and it would not be a thing worth mentioning for either of them (except for the fact that the other gets a kiss for every fart, a rule they'd made back when gas was still a thing to blush and be weird about, but by now that would be a sweet little peck, automatically given and received, often without even looking away from what they were doing). Luna might come in sometimes to get her fix of Mamoru-cuddles, but flee immediately if the mood changed and they'd get too touchy for her taste. She would eat snacks in bed sometimes and he would complain about the crumbs. Or, like now, again, she would lie stark naked and uninhibited face down and spread-eagled in her bed with her bum raised towards a fan in her balcony, sighing in relief against the heat.

He lay down next to her, a bit above her, as she was placed on the foot of her bed to be nearer towards the balcony, his head leaning on his hand, elbow propped up on the bed, smirking at his lovely, ridiculous girl. He reached for their current designated book – _Good Omens_ , one of his favorites, and the humor was, thankfully, not all lost in translation. And, as it turns out, it seemed a perfect fit for them, as she could explain to him some of the "newer" pop culture references he'd never gotten in it, and he could explain to her all the mythological, historical and artsy ones. Because, as the position she was currently in neither allowed for watching anime nor reading manga – which she would sometimes do before their routine – he guessed he was winning today and would not be made to watch Yuri on Ice tonight (they'd watched that whole season two times by now, Usagi was so into it he could only sit and sigh).

"So… can I read now?" He asked, shaking the book at her frame, even though she didn't look up.

"Uh… Gimme a minute," she mumbled, face pressed into the sheets. "I need my full concentration on this bliss."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Through the open balcony door, they could hear a door on the side of the house latch, falling shut. Ami was going home.

"BWYYYYEE" Usagi shouted, still impossibly loud, even though her voice was muffled by the sheets, but no reply came. Ami obviously hadn't heard her, and after a little while, the sound of her retreating footsteps had gotten too faint to hear.

Mamoru had flinched at the shout… Shingo probably had his window open in this heat, too, and wasn't supposed to notice that there were people coming and going from a door in his house the teenager didn't know about. But well… Usagi seemed to forget about that sometimes. Like when she left the door wide open, or shouted goodbyes down to it.

Thinking of Shingo though, he had to chuckle.

"What?" Usagi murmured, face still pressed firmly into the mattress.

"Shingo", Mamoru answered.

Usagi snorted, it made a funny sound on the sheets. "Did you notice Ami calling him 'polite' today?" she murmured.

He chuckled again. "Yeah… and mature."

"How does she not get he just has a huge crush on her?"

He shrugged, though she couldn't see, of course.

They fell silent, and he watched her for a bit, smiling to himself, lost in thought.

After a while, "Usako?"

"Uh-huh?"

"How would you feel about me buying a motorcycle?"

She lifted her head briefly, to look at him, then dropped her head back where it had been, the position obviously uncomfortable otherwise. "Can you _drive_ a motorcycle?"

"Not yet." He said. "I'd have to get lessons. But the driving school where I received my driver's license offers motorcycle lessons, too… It would only be a matter of weeks."

He could feel her frown, even though her face was once again turned away. "Um… sure? Why are you asking me?"

He cocked his head a bit, smiling. "Because we're a couple and it's a big decision? You get a say in it…"

She smiled into the sheets. "Well, go ahead, as long as you don't break your neck, and get me a helmet that fits around my hair."

He laughed, and nudged her side with his leg, then reached over the side of the bed for his glasses.

"So… can I read _now_?" he asked.

"Uh-huh"

"Do you remember what happened previously?"

"Uh-huh", she said again, voice muffled by the sheets, then shifted after all to turn towards him. She liked to watch him read, he knew that, and so he smirked at her with a raised eyebrow when she angled her body in such an awkward way to be able to look at him and at the same time get her full hit of the breeze. Somehow, he didn't know why, there was something she intensely liked about him in nothing but his boxer briefs and reading glasses.

But well, he didn't complain, of course.

"Well, then," he cleared his throat, and started to read. He changed his voice a bit to mimic a very dramatic narrator – something Usagi really liked and which made her giggle, and so she did immediately.

" _It was very early on Saturday morning, on the last day of the world_ …"

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, anyone remember Shingo's crush on Ami from the 90s anime?
> 
> Also: On the issue of the cats: Canon established that they can restore memory. Now, in the 90s, obviously there were some very random rules on whom this could be applied to, at which times, for which lifetimes, etc etc… For me? They can restore memory. I don't see any necessity why they should not always be able to do so, no plot-necessary exceptions for me. So, they can restore memory, period. That being said though, I will always have my characters be able to make the CHOICE if they want them – no one's being forced to have their old memories –
> 
> AND:
> 
> Memory is a fickle thing of the human psyche, and very fallible and easily influenced.
> 
> Plus, I gave the Mercury Computer an upgrade, obviously. Because, well,... the 90s anime and Manga/Crystal computer do today what any rooted or server-connected phone could do, and as it's supposed to be really, really advanced tech... I gave it AI, and a name. And she can connect it to any computer, and it talks to her through her earpiece, which is in her earring. So.
> 
> (All of you Flash-series watchers here, think Gideon.)
> 
> Athena = the ancient greek goddess of wisdom, among else.
> 
> Let me know what you think, pleaseeeee^^


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So… let me warn you here beforehand. This chapter, Mamoru has the mic.
> 
> It’s getting wordy and sciency.
> 
>  
> 
> As you know, Yugen means the emotional reaction one has when being aware of the universe around them. That’s gonna be our topic for this story, and as you saw in the prologue, with the Starlights in this story our little universe here is going to become a whole lot bigger. So I thought it best to let Mamoru get his geekery on and prepare you for all that a little bit beforehand ;)
> 
>  
> 
> And, as always from now on, you have UglyGreenJacket to thank for getting rid of all my mistakes for you <3

L

 

 

Mamoru gave her a long, lingering, soft kiss, his hands cradling her face gently, before he left the shower stall under loud protests of his left behind girlfriend.

 

She looked after him – Mamoru’s backside was a thing of beauty even with clothes on, without them she found it even better, and _wet_ , like he was now, there was no way she would ever not look after him.

 

He noticed, of course, the very carnal effect the sight had on her, and looked back at her over his shoulder, smirking, winking, and she rolled her eyes at him. She turned her head back under the spray of the shower, rinsing what felt like liters of conditioner slowly out of her masses of hair.

 

It took forever, obviously, and by the time she was done and traipsing out of the bathroom in one of his big towels, he was already dressed and rummaging through his kitchen, with the deep purple glow of the last remnants of sunset illuminating him in a golden light through the tall windows.

 

They’d decided to stay at his apartment tonight. It was a Friday, her parents were out on date night, which they did once a month, so they had to fend for themselves dinner-wise, anyway. Shingo had taken the opportunity to invite some of his friends for a pizza-heavy LAN-party, so there was no way she was staying in the house with 5 pubertal boys in it. Besides, they’d been here for a quick sparring session anyway, and spending the evening here meant they’d get to spend a very steamy and long shower together, so really, she didn’t need convincing.

 

She stood in the doorway for a little while, smiling, watching him work. He stood there with his sleeves rolled up, sticking his hands – hands he’d been sticking into very different places just a few minutes ago – into a bowl of rice and she blushed. Apparently, he was making them simple and delicious Maki Sushi, and he was humming to himself.

 

Her wet hair was dripping onto his plushy carpet, so she tore her eyes away and went into his bedroom, towel-drying it meticulously – no way was she gonna blow-dry it tonight. She was happy for the effect it had on her body temperature in the heat when damp, and it would take forever if she attempted to.

She rummaged a bit through his dresser in search for a very light blouse she swore she had left here a while ago, but didn’t find it. She looked around a bit for it, but of course it wouldn’t be anywhere else. Mamoru, even though they were here very rarely, was so very neat – no way there was any stray laundry lying around, not even hers.

 

In fact, the room was as neat as always. There was a small stack of books on the dresser – the only thing out of place in the room. They were the stack he’d brought back here from her place, today, all of them read over the last few weeks, to exchange them with a new stack that would be temporarily moving into her room.

 

Most of the books were textbooks for university – and sticky little Post-its were poking out with notes scribbled on them in his crazy neat handwriting from all sides. The one on top she’d seen him read most often – and this one wasn’t for university, but had equally as many sticky bookmarks put inside.

 

She ran her hand over the cover. Astronomy.

 

She sighed. She felt a bit guilty. Ever since they’d regained their memories from their past lives both of them had had a crazy urge to find out what was out there in the universe. But only he had actually followed up on that urge.

 

There were some things she remembered of course – there was no way she could know to name all 67 of Jupiter’s moons from _this_ life, anyway, along with all of their geological features, and though her memories were patchy on exactly _why_ she knew these things, mostly, she did know that Serenity knew quite little on what was _outside_ the solar system.

 

She sighed and gave up on her search for the feather-light blouse, and instead she put on the lightest cotton dress she had in his dresser, a black short spaghetti-strap dress. She left her hair damp and open, and didn’t bother with the bra. It was just too warm, and they wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight, anyway.

 

When she came back out, the sky had turned a deep blue, with only a few wisps of purple still hanging low on the horizon, and he had a big serving plate of Maki and Ginger and Soy sauce made ready, as well as a bowl of strawberries and a can of whipped cream, all on a tray.

 

The look in his eyes was mischievous, playful even, when he tucked his lips up in a suggestive half-smile. “There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Wanna eat up on the rooftop?”

 

Her eyes widened in delight and he chuckled, grabbing the tray as she grabbed his small blanket that lay draped over his couch. A picnic under the stars!

 

She squealed all the way up to the rooftop. This was one of the things she loved about her city so much: Most houses had a roof access. She loved sitting up on them, looking at the stars, the moon. All the more surprising that they’d never been up here together, but instead had ever only spent time on his balcony.

 

They lay sprawled on his blanket, eyes towards the sky, and they tried to outmatch each other in the task on how much cream one could get on the other’s face with just one strawberry.

 

Usagi won, hands down, and Mamoru capitulated sometime soon, fearing for his clothes in the face of creamy missiles.

 

Usagi was nibbling on one of the last pieces of _his_ share of Sushi when the first shooting star fell, sometime much later. She nearly spit it out in excitement, wiggling her hand towards the sky.

 

He chuckled at her. “I saw it, you don’t have to jump a mile.”

 

She turned her head on the blanket just to face him while she rolled her eyes theatrically.

 

“Well, did you wish for something?” He asked, cradling her left hand in his right between them.

 

She smiled. “For more days like this with you.”

 

He smiled, turned towards her, and tapped her nose. “You’re not supposed to tell.”

 

She shrugged. “It’s not telling when I’m telling you.”

 

He scrunched up his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

 

“Of course it does.” She said, turning her gaze back towards the sky.

 

They lay there like that for awhile, peaceful, listening to each other’s quiet breathing, with some more stars falling just above them, and every time they did, Usagi’s heart jumped with it. There was just something magical about the stars. She’d always thought so, in any life.

 

She exhaled, deep and slowly. “Mamo-chan?”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“Can you tell me about the stars? About the universe?” She asked, voice quiet, thoughtful.

 

He didn’t turn to look at her but drew his thumb across her hand instead. “What do you want to know about it?”

 

She pursed her lips in thought, “Everything.”

 

He laughed. “Well… that could take a while. And is impossible. We humans know very little about space, comparatively. You’ll have to be more specific.”

 

She huffed in mock-annoyance, more at his playful tone than at the content, and more in habit than anything else. “Well…” she started. “Stuff. How big is it? Where is our place in it? How does it work?”

 

He turned towards her, propping his arm up on his elbow to look at her better, sideways. “That might still take a while.”

 

“We have time. I wanna know,” she said.

 

He raised his eyebrow, but his eyes were warm. “Well, then… where shall I start?”

 

She smiled at him. “Here,” she said, poking him in the chest, and meaning the Earth. He understood of course, and smiled back at her.

He cocked his head to the side, stroking the hand that poked him. “It’s a lot of numbers, though, you might find it boring.” He said apologetically, smiling warmly.

 

She huffed at him, exasperated. “I trust you to try and make it interesting. Now, tell me, please.”

He laughed and raised an eyebrow again, then looked briefly back up at the sky, obviously thinking about how to best explain this all. “Well... let’s see,” he started, and he adopted that tone he sometimes had, she called it teacher mode, or storyteller mode, that he always adopted when he explained things, to her or to anyone, and she found it really endearing.

 

“So… Earth is estimated to be 4.5 billion years old and is about 13.000 km across, mostly made of molten rock and metal. Its atmosphere reaches about a hundred km high, and it is surrounded by a magnetic field that protects us from the sun, which is 150 _million_ km away from us and still lights everything we see here, and even unimaginably further into space than just to us.”

 

He stopped for a second, biting his lip briefly, scrunching up his forehead in thought. He looked a bit apologetic almost, trying to pack this information all up so she’d get what she wanted to hear, she was sure of it, so she smiled in reassurance.

 

“…what you need to know to get this into perspective, is the scale of the sun in comparison to Earth,” he said, looking at her pointedly. “We always have this very romantic picture of these totally inaccurate models of the solar system, scale-wise, in our mind, which we all made as kids? The revolving ones?”

She nodded.

 

“Yeah…, well,… that one is _completely_ misleading. The sun makes up more than _98_ % of all the mass in our solar system. It’s _huge_. Even giant, massive Jupiter, the most massive object in our system after the sun _by far_ , is only _1%_ of the mass of the sun, just a tiny dot compared to it. We’re _tiny_ compared to our star. The word ‘tiny’ doesn’t even _begin_ to describe how small we are in comparison.”

 

Her eyes widened, which he smiled at, and he took a huge breath, pausing for a bit, and she had a moment to wrap her head around everything he’d said.

 

“That’s why – if we were to look at our solar system from very, very far outside , all you would see of us, is in fact our star, the sun. Which is why all these stars you see in the sky might just be the center of their own star systems – some of them we know, but most of them we don’t. Some of these objects you see here, mistakenly as a star, are even whole galaxies…”

 

She frowned at him, and he scrunched up his nose, apologetically.

 

“… But I’ll get to that later.” He said, and then sat up. Obviously, lying on his back didn’t help the wild gesticulating he tended to do when explaining things, and she turned to her side, propped her elbow up and her head into her hand like he had just done before her, and turned expectant eyes back on him.

 

She really did like it when he explained things. Minako could make fun of him wanting to explain the world to her all she wanted – she loved it. He’d always be so passionate talking science to her, whenever he was allowed to, which was rarely, granted, and for once, she really _did_ want to know about this stuff, which made her appreciate it even more.

 

“So…” He started back up. “The Solar System. Really, it’s just _a_ solar system, but we’re a very egocentric people, so we just call it _The_ Solar System, with a capital T, because that’s what we’re like, apparently…”, he said, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “And well, most of us kind of seem to be under the notion that there’s a vast nothingness between us and the rest of the stars, or the galaxy, but… that’s not so.”

 

He shrugged, and continued. “Out behind Neptune’s orbit is what we call the Kuiper Belt – Pluto is actually _in_ the Kuiper Belt, it’s made up of, well, we really don’t know _how_ many numerous, icy objects, and it crosses Neptune’s rather tilted orbit. We just discovered Pluto first because it _seems_ to be the biggest object in the Kuiper Belt, but _definitely_ not the only one. It extends about 150 _billion_ km out from the sun, but then, outside of it, there’s even another overlapping belt-like disk of objects surrounding us farther than that. That one we call the Oort Cloud, and it starts roughly _300_ _billion km_ out from the sun and stretches about 10 _trillion_ km out away from our star – that’s one _light year away_ and we’re _still_ in the farthest reaches of _our_ solar system… “

 

Her eyes were wide, a bit baffled, and he looked at her questioningly. “Do you know what a light year is?”

 

She nodded. “A measurement, obviously.”

 

“Yes, but what it implies?”

 

She frowned. “Well, it’s how far light travels in a year?”

 

“Exactly. So, when we say something is a light year away – then it is _so_ far away than the light that we see here right now – as starlight, for instance, took a _year_ to get to us where we see it here now.”

 

She nodded, and then wiggled her hand at him. “Well, go on.”

 

“Ok. So, out there, in the Oort Cloud, it’s all made up of icy objects such as comets, mostly, innumerable, even though we know barely any of them. Pluto and its moons are just a small example of a few known objects in the Kupier Belt _alone_. That doesn't even account for the Oort Cloud, or the approximately 100,000 objects in the Kupier Belt that are larger than 100km.… but the Oort Cloud now… it has trillions of icy bodies in it, that astronomy, even today, isn't sure of any object in it yet. _None_. “

 

He stopped, looking back up at the night sky briefly, before continuing. “So… keep that in mind when I talk about the universe now, that we really don’t even know what’s in our backyard so to speak, which is already i _mpossibly_ far away.”

 

He took a breath, cocking his head to the side towards the sky. “Well, that makes it surprising we know about exoplanets – planets orbiting other stars – _at all_. But we do, billions at least, thus some very, very incomprehensibly few of them.”

 

Usagi blinked up at him. “Which are the nearest stars to us, then?”

 

“Nearest to our sun is Proxima Centauri, which is 4.2 light years away – or _42 trillion_ km, but I think I’ll stick to the light years from now –,“ he said and she nodded. “ –but Tau Ceti and Alpha Centauri are quite near too, for example. Most stars are actually born in groups, or clusters. Sometimes dozens or hundreds, sometimes hundreds of thousands at a time. They are formed from gigantic clouds of gas and dust, that we call nebulae.”

Usagi furrowed her brows. _“Dust_? In _space_?”

 

He cocked his head to the side at her again, pulling his lips to the side in unison. “Space dust doesn’t equal dust – tiny tiny grains, like silicons or calcium, but mostly polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Yeah, whatever. So _dust_...”

 

He chuckled.

 

“Yeah.. so dust…”, he said, his eyes twinkling at her. “It orbits along with gas clouds and all these star systems in a gigantic spiral-formed disc shaped galaxy that we call the Milky Way Galaxy. You could say it’s basically our hometown, if you will. And it’s a mind-numbing and incomprehensive _100,000 light years in diameter_. The sun is one of _hundreds_ of _billions_ of stars in it which, again, have – at least what we know so far – 100 billion planets surrounding those, and it has a quite tame – yet – supermassive black hole in its center.”

 

She blinked at the black hole mention. Weren’t those supposed to be like, _bad_? But he just talked right on, in a flow now.

 

“We – meaning our solar system – are located about halfway out from the center of it – so you might say we’re kind of in the suburbs of the Milky Way. This is why we can see its cloudy disk-like, stretched form from Earth – we’re simply far out enough to see it. But we _can’t_ see very far into it, actually. Even with telescopes, our view is blocked pretty soon, mostly by dust, so we can only see about a thousand light years in. Only by venturing outside of the visible spectrum of light and using radio waves we can ‘see’ farther, and that’s how we know about the Milky Way’s spiral form, let alone about the inner structures of other galaxies.”

Usagi looked up at the sky. Tokyo was too urban and light to see the Milky Way, of course, but the sky was exceptionally clear, and what seemed like hundreds of tiny dotty stars – the occasional falling one between them, it was a meteor shower after all, blinked back at her, as if they were listening to Mamo-chan as well.

 

He sighed, almost dreamily, and she couldn’t _not_ smile at him being such an adorable dork enjoying his own science story.

 

“But you see, this crazy vast place that is our galaxy, is _definitely_ not even the biggest there is. There are so many galaxies out there, all of them with supermassive black holes in their centers, many of which we can see in the sky, some of which we are currently _eating –“_

“What?!” Usagi exclaimed, appalled and he chuckled.

 

He winked at her. “When small galaxies collide with us, they get incorporated with ours and absorbed, eaten up so to speak…. _but_ , as I was saying, even though our galaxy is still really pretty big, one of our neighbouring galaxy, which we can see, by the way, but have mistaken for a nebula forever; Andromeda, is even bigger and believed to consist of about a _trillion_ stars. It’s at least _900,000 light years_ away – at least, that’s the distance to the first star in it that we managed to measure.”

He stopped for a brief second, his own eyes widening about what he was telling her, and she had to giggle at him.

 

“ _900,000 light years,_ Usako. That means – the lights that we see from Andromeda, right now, was sent to us 900,000 years ago. There’ve only been humans on Earth for about _200,000_ years! Can you imagine that?”

 

She blinked, again, and she saw how much he enjoyed it that she was actually, for _once_ , as excited about his science geekery as he was.

 

He cleared his throat, smiling brightly but a bit sheepishly, and continued on.

 

“Anyway… as I said before, we can even see galaxies from here.” He said, his eyes alight and he lay – basically dove – back on his back, pulling her with him, close to him, before he searched the sky for just a moment and then pointed. “There… that really, really bright star there?”

 

She followed his gaze and pointing finger and nodded with shining eyes.

 

“This is 3C273. It’s the most luminous object in the sky, but it’s not a star, as we’ve believed it to be for _years_ – it turned out to be a whole galaxy, 2 _billion_ light years away, and after we discovered _that_ , we found many more of these, blinking at us, disguising themselves as stars, even just in our visible sky alone.”

 

She sighed, happily, feeling his excitement through their bond, and they turned their heads and looked at each other at the same time, feeling the same, and smiling, until he cleared his throat, and continued on.

 

“So… our galaxy group – it’s called, quite unimpressively, the “Local Group” of galaxies, of which Andromeda is the biggest and we’re second biggest, and then there are only about a few dozen other, much, much smaller ones in it, in this very _weird_ scale of calling things _small_ ,” he said, smiling to himself.

 

“In fact, our Local Group probably used to have many more galaxies in them, but over time, those two big ones – ours and Andromeda – ate them all, and that’s the reason why those two are so big. And someday, we’ll probably eat each other up, too, and become one giant blob of Milkomeda –,“ she snorted at the name “ – in several billion years of time, though still long before the sun will die.”

She shook her head wildly, nose wrinkled, wiggling her hands. “Wait, wait, wait, wait,…,“ she said, stopping him, “…we’re _eating_ other galaxies?”

 

He chuckled and nodded at her wide-eyed terror.

 

“What you need to understand – although I’m talking about “eating” and collisions – nothing actually happens like a crash. Galaxies are _huge_ – the odds that even one star actually crashes into another, let alone a planet, even though these galaxies will literally collide or consume others, is minimal and pretty much nonexistent.” He said as she furrowed her brows.

 

He gesticulated with his hands widely, indicating a big amount of space, then twirling them around one another in graceful, long movements. “Galaxies are made up much, much, _much_ more of dust and empty space than objects in them – so it would be much more sensible to call it a merge, a rearrangement of star systems.”

 

He exhaled and looked at her again. “But anyway, our Local Group, in contrast, is quite small compared to other groups. But, let me remind you what I’m calling small here right now. Up to this point, we’re looking at, like, _quintillions of light years_ –but once we go ever _farther_ , _intergalactic_ , then some galaxies are clumped together in smallish groups like our Local groups, others are in _gigantic_ clusters, some of them containing thousands of galaxies. … And then _those_ clusters _themselves_ fall into even _bigger_ clusters, which we call Superclusters. Our Local Group is on the fringes of the Virgo Galaxy Cluster, which is part of the Virgo Supercluster, which is just one of many other gigantic galactic structures that stretch across the universe, which is expanding every day, faster and faster, and might even be part of an even bigger multiverse, expanding forever across time and space.”

 

Usagi blinked heavily. This was getting past her comprehension, she thought, and he stopped, back peddling, smiling at her reassuringly.

 

“Well, to your question how big it is… there are, in fact, an estimated hundred _billion galaxies_ in the universe, and as it keeps growing, there are many more being born right this second…” He said and trailed off.

 

He turned to his side again, and this time they were really close. So close that she could feel his breath on her face now when he spoke again.

 

“You see…,” he started, stopping briefly to choose his words, “not even only _we_ as a people are a tiny subatomic speck of dust compared to this vast, larger scale… our whole enormously gigantic _galaxy_ is.”

 

She inhaled, slightly, taking this in, feeling a bit emotionally overwhelmed by the feelings this erupted in her, the wonder about it all.

 

He exhaled, and moved a hand to her open, still very slightly damp hair, running a hand through it.

 

“So we’re pretty insignificant,” she said, smiling.

 

He grinned at her, “Very.”

 

The universe did have a way of putting you in your place, and all your experience… even multiple lifetimes, even those where they were royalty.

 

It was comforting to her, in a very weird way that she couldn’t really explain, but could feel mirrored in him just the same.

                                                                                

She turned into his side, snuggling against him, and felt him inhale the smell of her hair.

 

It was a while until they went back down to his apartment.

 

 

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, here’s your astronomy lesson. Me, I’m neither an astronomer nor a physicist, so this info all comes from two sources. I read ‘Astronomy for Dummies’ and watched 41 episodes of ‘Crash Course Astronomy’ for this. Blame them for any inaccuracy, but I tried to stay as true and close to the material as possible xD
> 
> I hoped you still liked it, with Mamoru getting his geek on and all and setting the stage here. Please let me know what you think and I'll be getting back to you very soon <3


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Thank you guys for everyone who is reading, and following, and reviewing, and thank you to UglyGreenJacket who is helping me SO much by going over all of my chapters for me <3

L

 

Mondays, although Usagi hated them with a passion, had lately become a little sweeter to her.

 

Because Makoto didn’t have her club activities on Mondays anymore, and her training started an hour later than it usually did, she got an hour and a half off between school and her scheduled session that she could spend just hanging with one of her friends…

 

Just like Thursdays, where she also got half an hour, those to be spent with Minako, who didn’t have volleyball training on Thursdays. And Wednesdays, where Mamoru had his only early day this semester, which was, already ,really full this year, to pick her up, and which was also her one day off of training. Unsurprisingly, Wednesdays were her favorite.

It was quaint, really, how fast one got accustomed to routine. She still felt extremely frustrated about her training schedule, and of course, she complained, this was still her after all (plus, there was obviously a lot to complain _about_ … those training sessions were rubbish, didn’t help at all!), but… it was a deal. And that was that. She’d gotten used to it.

 

And she’d do it a hundred times over, if it meant she’d forever keep those two off Hotaru’s back…

 

So… these were her days now, at least during the week. An hour here and there with her friends after school, then training all the days during the week, except Wednesdays. After training Mamoru would pick her up and they’d have about 2, sometimes 3 hours left, tops, until dinner with her family and whoever else of the girls was there, which they’d pushed back to accommodate her schedule anyway.

 

 _The weekends_ , she reminded herself. She still had the weekends. She _lived_ for the weekends.

 

Mako-chan walked around her to one of the vending machines in one of the side streets near their school. This one was especially colorful and bright, and Makoto got her the sweetest soda out of it she could find, and a water for herself.

 

Usagi beamed at her. They were going for milkshakes anyway, and this was Mako-chan’s way of telling her she had to indulge even a little bit more, which Usagi, of course, totally approved of.

 

She accepted the cold drink from her with a big smile, took a swig, and sighed in relief when the cold, sugary fluid went down her throat.

 

“So...” Makoto started, holding the cold water bottle to her neck for a moment.“They still only making you stretch and shit?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Mako's smile was smug. She realized it and tried to hide it immediately, but Usagi saw, and couldn’t help a little giggle about it.

 

Makoto and Minako had been the most miffed when Haruka and Michiru had insisted Usagi train with them from now on. Makoto especially had felt slighted, disrespected. After all, Mako-chan had been training Usagi in combat from day one, even before any of them knew she was Sailor Jupiter. And ever since Minako had come home, they'd been doing elaborate worked-through training sessions all together, designed and perfected by the two of them. They still did them now - Tuesdays and Thursdays after their club activities, just without Usagi.

 

They'd been happy, though, once Usagi had started complaining about the fact that what Haruka and Michiru did with her could not at all be called combat training. Cause it really wasn’t. She really had no clue what this was supposed to be for.

 

Usagi bit her lip in thought, taking another swig of her bright neon pink drink. “It feels... I don't know what they are doing… But it's definitely not fighting.” She scrunched up her nose. “Feels more like the training I got in the Silver Millennium, to be honest. Be poised and balanced and beautiful. It's weird. But they say it’s important.”

 

“Huh...,” Mako made. And a few beats later, “Usagi-chan?”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“What does it feel like?”

 

She turned to Makoto with a curious look. “What, the training? I just said it's just like—“

 

But Makoto interrupted her, “No. The memories. What do they feel like?”

 

Right. Usagi blinked. She kept forgetting Mako-chan chose against getting hers back. Mostly because it really didn’t matter either way, but, out of her and Rei – both of them the only ones who didn’t have them, Makoto sometimes seemed to regret her decision – not enough to go and ask for her memories again, but enough to care. While Rei had had the feeling she didn’t need them, anyway, since she’d just _know_ what’s right anyway, Makoto simply had wanted to remember in her own time, if at all. Usagi had been completely supportive – she would have probably chosen so herself, had she been given that choice.

 

“Well...”, she started, thinking about her answer for a bit, “it's not very different, really. Just like… earlier memories that come before all the ones you have?” she said, and Makoto looked down at her curiously.

 

“I don't remember everything, of course. Just like I don't remember everything from when I was a kid. Just... the important bits? And..., hm,” she stopped, looking into the distance, and brought a hand to her chest. “I’m… well, Serenity and I, we’re not a hundred percent alike. But, it feels like she’s a part of me?”

 

She looked up at Makoto, who nodded at her to continue.

 

“She’s a separate part of me, but a part of me. It’s like I have a heart, and a brain and a gut that all tell me to do different things, and now I have a princess in there, too? Like, I can tell them apart, and I know which is saying which… this doesn’t make sense, does it?”

 

Makoto shook her head and smiled at Usagi. “Actually, I think it’s the best explanation any of you guys have ever given me,” she said and Usagi beamed. “In fact, Minako just said, ‘Like remembering something important you forgot.’” She winked at her.

 

Usagi chuckled, then thought a bit more. They’d gotten closer towards the Crown, could see the iron wrought chairs in front of the Fruit Parlors patio already.

 

“Well… take Serenity out and she won’t be me. She and I are different. But so it would be if you’d only take out my gut side and look how similar it is to me?” she asked, looking at Makoto with a frown. “But, take her out of me and you wouldn’t have _me_ anymore, either, cause she belongs in there. Even though I didn’t remember her for a long time… So, yeah, maybe I’m a _little_ bit different now that I remember her.”

 

And then, promptly, as if she _wanted_ to prove herself wrong, Usagi tripped over a loose cobble and fell, cursing and wailing amidst her fall, on her butt.

 

Makoto chuckled. “Well, you don’t _seem_ any different to me, Usagi-chan,” she winked, and extended a hand to help her up.

 

Just a few moments later and they sat outside on the patio, and Usagi – Mako’s treat – was very soon supplied with a big ass fruit parfait, overflowing to the brim, Unazuki’s finest.

 

“So… what do you wanna do for Mamoru’s birthday?”

 

Usagi looked up, mouth full. Mamoru’s birthday was next week, and she still wasn’t convinced about her plans at all. They’d kind of made his birthday into their anniversary, too, what with that accidental date they had that day and all, and now she felt she needed to do something super special, but…

 

Then she frowned, remembering the other matter in that. “…I really think I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. He doesn’t tell people when his birthday is.”

 

Makoto shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah… I didn’t use to either… anyway. Plans?”

 

She furrowed her brow. “I… I don’t know. It’s also our anniversary, so I thought we’d go to the cupcake place we went on the same day a year ago, and later like, here?” she said, wiggling her dripping spoon up toward the big neon ‘Crown Arcade and Fruit Parlor’ sign. “ I thought of a surprise party at first, but then I’d have to tell everyone, and I don’t know if—”

 

Makoto shook her head. “No, don’t do something that big. He enjoys these things with you, for you, but he’s more private than that.”

 

Usagi’s face fell. “But I want to do something nice for him.”

 

Makoto looked at her warmly then – which was pretty normal of course. If Usagi were asked, she’d say Makoto was the warmest person in the world she could think of.

 

“Well,” Makoto cocked her head sideways, “apart from you, who are his favorite people in the world? Who would he want to have around?”

 

“Um…” Usagi said, swatting Makoto’s hand away as she attempted to rob her of a strawberry. “Mama, Motoki and you.”

 

Makoto took a double take on that, smile growing. “Really?” she asked, gloating, and Usagi had to giggle at her.

 

“ Um,” Makoto cleared her throat. “Well, you know, what _I_ miss most about my birthdays is … family. I keep remembering my birthdays as a kid with my parents, and a cake and a few candles and them clapping when I blow them out. I yearn for it. I suppose Mamoru doesn’t even have these memories to keep him afloat… “

 

Usagi blinked, heavily, trying to blink away the feeling that pooled itself heavily within her throat.

 

And then she nodded, decisively. Then that’s what he’ll get. “I’ll ask Mama,” she said, determined, and Makoto smiled, somewhat proudly.  

 

And then she furrowed her brow, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘Speaking about Mamoru’s favorite people’, put a hand to her forehead to shade herself from the sun, and squinted into the distance.

 

Usagi turned to look at who Makoto saw, right before Makoto hollered a booming, “ _ASANUMA-CHAN!_ ” across the street, her other arm extended in a big wave. Sometimes, Usagi thought, Mako-chan could be louder than her.

 

He came over towards them, that sweet blonde boy. Usagi loved the way he looked at Makoto so affectionately, and with just the tiniest hint of a shy blush, and how Makoto called him –chan but he insisted on calling her –senpai, and how he almost didn’t even notice Usagi sitting there as well.

 

It was _so_ cute she’d have loved to pinch him in the cheeks, and Makoto as well, just for good measure. They’d make the cutest couple, Usagi was sure of it (but Makoto just rolled her eyes whenever she brought the subject up.)

 

Asanuma pulled her from her thoughts, having asked a question she hadn’t paid attention to.

 

“Excuse me?” she said, with a slight apologetic wince. She didn’t notice Makoto’s alarmed look at first.

 

“I said, you must be so proud of him! I mean, he didn’t even apply! They approached _Keio_ about him! How amazing is that???”

 

“Umm…” Usagi looked confused.

 

“So, is Mamoru-senpai preparing already? He must be so excited!” Asanuma asked, smiling from ear to ear.

 

Usagi frowned. “Um,...what for?”

 

He looked confused, as if Usagi was even more naïve than he'd thought, or if she'd lost it altogether. "Um, Harvard, of course?"

 

It took Usagi a moment. She wanted to laugh at first, where he’d gotten _that_ idea from…

 

But then Asanuma kept on talking, how all of Moto Azabu was talking about nothing else than the fact that an alumni of theirs was being approached by _Harvard_ , and he used the right names for Mamo-chan’s professors and classes, and it all made so much sense and…. and… Usagi’s heart felt heavy, all of a sudden, and her throat began to constrict. It all became too much.

 

She swallowed, willing her eyes to stay dry.

 

“…What?” she whispered, voice cracking.

 

L

 

 

Ami had chosen the quaint, little, traditional tea house for the occasion which they frequented often. It was probably way too public a place, but she just didn’t know where else to go. She couldn’t do this at work, lest Tomoe notice something and endanger her. She couldn’t do this in the Senshi command central, lest she expose them for who they were.

 

She supposed they could have done it at her home, but… the last time… She didn’t want to scare her. Especially not when Ami was asking for a favor.

 

But the tea house would need to do. It was small, with an even tinier backroom she was currently located in, with its two single coffee tables and tatami mats. The room was shaded once the paper screens were closed, and opened to a backyard where no one ever was. She loved this place, often went here study, as the owner was a little, near-deaf, old lady that always left her alone to work in the small little backroom after her first order, and she usually felt solitude here.

 

It would need to do.

 

As Yamamoto-san came with the teapots and cups, the Japanese ceramic hot and steaming, Ami could hear the loud chimes of the front door dingle.

 

And in through the door she came, in her thin, black, silk coat and thick, black, leather gloves that she wore, even if it was the middle of summer, with that soft and elegant smile on her face that looked sadder than most things Ami had ever seen in her life.

 

She looked all parts the vision of melancholy and death, which was, Ami supposed, perhaps exactly what she was.

 

Just that she didn’t know it.

 

Her smile turned to Yamamoto-san in greeting and she bowed deeply before kneeling down in her usual spot across from Ami. The tea house was so close to their school they’d come here lots of times before, together, always ordering the same. A simple green sencha for Ami, white jasmine for Hotaru.

 

She sat with a soft “Konnichiwa, Ami-san.”

 

Ami smiled at her friend. It was sad, mimicking Hotaru’s, and Ami reckoned that was the only kind of smile Hotaru ever saw on her anymore.

 

Seeing Hotaru always reminded her of all the things they kept from her.

 

That they thought her father might have experimented on her more than with the tech in her limbs that saved her life. That two of their own had attempted to kill her. That her life was only intact anymore because her princess had fought for her life, and because she herself had vouched to rat her off the minute her powers shone through, before it was too late to stop her, and to make sure Hotaru was kept in the dark on the origin of those powers the slender black-haired girl was very much aware of.

 

She could never know who she really was. Why she could do what she could do, or she would die.

 

And Ami had to lie to her. Day after day after day.

 

And every time her friend confided in her. So scared of what she could do, so frightened of what she might do to others, and Ami wanted so deeply to be honest, to train the girl in her powers, so she would not be taken under by them so. But every time Ami had to lie, find logical, but entirely false explanations for her powers, even go so far as show her some of hers, so Hotaru would trust her, and not go digging further for the truth.

 

It didn’t help matters that Hotaru reminded her so much of herself. Her old, lonely, secluded self. Before she’d found her confidence, before she’d grown into the person who could wield these powers freely, before she had friends, and something to lose, and a destiny and a purpose.

 

They talked a bit – mindless chitchat, they both knew it. Ami had asked Hotaru here for a reason, last night. She knew what Ami wanted of her.

 

Hotaru raised her shoulders, breathing in deeply, and kneaded her fingers together, still in those gloves that she never took off.

 

Ami knew why, of course, and she couldn’t help but pity her friend.

 

“Are you sure no one’s here?”

 

Ami nodded. “We’re the only patrons right now. I promise.”

 

Hotaru nodded solemnly, and with a deep sigh she slowly peeled her gloves from her fingers. And careful not to touch anything, she folded her hands peculiarly in her lap, closing her eyes.

 

It looked as if she was praying, entirely still.

 

The only thing moving in the room for a moment was Hotaru’s chest – rising and falling with each exaggerated, deep and loud intake of breath, concentrating. It was a moment later that Hotaru’s hands were pushed open by something growing between her hands.

 

Ami gasped, surprised. She’d known of Hotaru’s ability to do this, of course, but witnessing it firsthand was something else entirely.

 

Between Hotaru’s hands a small nebula had formed – gas and dust and tiny particles that formed into a simulation of time and space. Starting from the big bang, and quickly, so quickly, moving through the universe’s history.

 

It was exactly what she needed.

 

Ami gave a little surprised laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Hotaru-san… this is …” Her eyes were wide, excited as only a scientist could be right now, and Hotaru blushed.

 

She held her hands up, the tiny, growing simulation of all the universe – right now, still in its youngest years but quickly accelerating – moving with them.

 

“Quick,” she said, smiling that sad smile that only Hotaru could form, “before it’s too big.”

 

Ami jerked out of her transfixed stare, and reached for her bag. Out of it, she retrieved a rather large cylindrical, glass petri dish and opened its lid quickly.

 

Hotaru nodded for Ami to set the probe glass before her and so she did, and with a flick of her wrists, and so careful not to touch Ami that she held her breath – even though they sat quite far apart –, she let the miniature universe simulation glide into the dish.

 

It was rather a perplexing sight to behold.

 

With a quick and loud smack, Hotaru had closed the lid on the dish and slid it into the middle of the coffee table.

 

There it sat, to be stared at rather dumbly by Ami, this swirling account of how all life had once started, having momentarily paused in its evolution, now that it was contained.

 

Hotaru cleared her throat, and Ami shook out of it, touching the glass as carefully when packing it away as she had Usagi’s almost lifeless form after the first battle with Kaguya. She shuddered at the thought, quickly, driving it away.

 

“It will start back up once you free it,” Hotaru said in her quiet, timid voice, while carefully slipping her gloves back onto her hands. “It should reach the birth of our solar system by the end of this week. And by the end of next, you’ll be able to see into the present form of the universe, as it is today.”

 

Ami nodded. This was exactly what she needed to study Chaos. To be able to look at the universe objectively, on time, as opposed to looking into the stars, where all she saw was the past; light that hit us now that had withered and died, some of them thousands of years ago. But this… this would show her the universe as it truly was, _right now_ , all of it.

 

She could find Chaos with this.

 

Hotaru’s power was astounding. Ami, of course, other than Hotaru herself, knew why Hotaru could do this. As the Senshi of Ruin, Hotaru had in her the innate understanding of the circle of life and death in all the universe. This, this very consciousness was what she fed into the simulation she created. She could channel her subconscious knowledge of it into this simulation, up unto this exact point in time.

 

Hotaru pulled her out of her thoughts. “Look most closely at our Virgo Supercluster. I feel the most destruction there,” she said, shyly, lowering her eyes. “And… don’t look too closely into the future. It’s.. it’s about 99% accurate up until this very moment that I did this simulation, from my connection with it right now, but… afterwards it’s just a simulation. One possibility out of billions of billions. The future is not set in stone. It changes. Don’t make anything of it.”

 

Ami’s eyes widened… she hadn’t even thought about the possibility, yet. That Hotaru’s simulation was capable of looking into the future of the universe as well….

 

L

 

Usagi was sure she was a curious sight today. She’d managed to stay composed and brave until Asanuma had left, no emotion in sight that gave her away, but when he did, she’d burst, immediately, into fat blubbering tears and Makoto had been left to pick up the pieces – helpless to what she could do, cursing Mamoru in words Usagi wasn’t sure she’d ever heard in the Japanese language before.

 

She’d calmed down, only to become so _angry,_ and Mako-chan had fired her on – anger, she could work with, calling Mamo-chan names she wasn’t sure she could repeat without blushing if she weren’t so utterly out of it.

 

The next stage had been somewhat more realistic. Yes. This was a giant opportunity for him. This was amazing. She should be happy for him. Nobody deserved it more. I mean, he’d saved this city, months of it on his own, even, this could just as well be his cosmic reward or something equally weird, who was she to stand in his way. (“His fucking past-life _wife_ , maybe?!” Makoto had spat – she was still in the anger phase.)

 

And then back to anger, in a rush. Hadn’t he been the one telling her, just a few nights ago, that she got to take part in big decisions in his life? What, deciding to get a motorcycle was worth talking over with her, but _leaving the friggin’ country wasn’t_??!

 

And then, back to the tears. Frustrated, heavy sobs this time, torn between despair that he would go, and hurt that he had been too chicken to even tell her, that he hadn’t said one word about them even approaching him.

 

Her shoulders slumped, and her heart felt numb. He’d be gone for god knows how long, and she'd need to let him go, didn't she? She had no say in this. Her feelings didn't matter in this situation, this was too big a thing to pass up. She'd have to smile about it and let him go. He needed her to smile about this.

 

This was the point Makoto became most uncomfortable with, she knew this. Anger she could do, sadness she could deal with, too, but… defeat? Defeat was not for Kino Makoto.

 

It was a spiral from there, switching between moods like wildfire, but Makoto was there for her.

 

It was pure and utter willpower that she had been composed enough when entering the tall building she trained in, Haruka’s apartment inside of it. Makoto had been reluctant to leave her there, had insisted to at least bring her up, and shouldn’t she cancel, just today, and shouldn’t they barge into Keio right now, demanding answers?

 

But she’d shaken her head, and gone through the motions, secretly glad she could shut the truth of what she’d just learned out for another three hours, give or take, let it sink. If she didn’t talk about it yet, it wasn’t true yet…

 

She was late - almost half an hour late - but once they saw the state she was in they didn't say a thing about it whatsoever. She changed into her workout clothes in Michiru's lavish dressing room that for once didn't give Usagi any feelings at all, and slid into her first position very soon after.

 

She obviously wasn’t attentive at all during training, though, even less than usual. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Haruka and Michiru.

 

They’d been looking at each other, sighing, arching eyebrows. And when, after the fifth yoga pose they’d have her take, she still didn’t complain about this not being any combat training, or what was this supposed to even help her with, and instead followed Haruka’s instructions diligently, but very messily –

 

Keeling over, but not getting frustrated, instead just getting back up, trying again…she knew Haruka was getting worried about her.

 

“What did he do?” Haruka growled, about an hour later, when Usagi fell, once again, out of the toe stand position, yet didn’t make a peep about it.

 

Usagi just sighed, and resumed her position.

 

“Koneko…” Haruka started, somewhat in a threatening tone, which Usagi knew wasn’t directed at her. She was halted by Michiru’s calm hand on her arm, stopping her from talking further.

 

At this, Michiru’s calm treatment of the situation, Usagi fell out of position again. But this time she remained lying on the floor, eyes turned towards the brightly illuminated ceiling, and she couldn’t help the silent, fat tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes and towards the side of her face and neck, to the floor.

 

Haruka growled again, no calming hand stopping her this time, but then Usagi spoke.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it before I didn’t talk to him about it first,” she said, her voice hoarse, and Michiru cocked her head to the side.

 

“That’s very grown up of you, Usagi-chan,” she said in that calm, melodic voice of hers.

 

Usagi nodded, decisively, wiping her tears, but felt the anger phase bubbling back up, and got back on her knees.

 

She looked over towards the two of them. They waited for an answer to a question they hadn’t voiced.

 

“Can we just forget this for a while? Distract me?” Usagi asked in a small voice and Haruka nodded, getting up from her perch by the window.

 

Her lips were set in a thin line, but her eyes were warm. “Let’s work some more on your balance, Koneko.”

 

 

L

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, remember when, in the Manga and the 90s Nehelenia Arc, Hotaru as a toddler could simulate the big bang and the universe? Figured, if preschooler-her can do it, mine is allowed to be able to do it as well ;)
> 
> So, what did you think???


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my giant usual thanks to my lovely UglyGreenJacket for all her help! !
> 
>  
> 
> Are you guys still here with me? It’s gotten so quiet and I’m worried if I’m doing something terribly wrong here xD… Let me know?
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, on we go:

 L

 

 

He snapped his anatomy textbook shut, packed it away and straightened up from his position against the side of the looming building Haruka Tenoh lived in, when he felt Usagi approaching the entrance.

 

The closer she got, the more her feelings intensified – he’d only felt them vaguely on her before, from where he’d been, but now they started bombarding him… She was in turmoil, and angry.

 

He’d been worried for a few minutes, tempted to rush in and demand an answer to what they were doing with her that made her get so riled up. It was only when she stepped through the door, caught his eye, and then averted her gaze just as quickly, lips set into a thin line, that he realized that her anger was directed at _him_. That he’d been the reason she was currently so riled up.

 

He frowned. What had he done?

 

She came towards him – crawling almost, she was so slow. As if she were reluctant to greet him.

 

His frown only became deeper. Usually she would rush towards him – even when she was irritated with him.

 

She was still in her active wear –  a hugely oversized tank top that was thrown over her nude colored sports bra, carelessly tied into a knot around her midriff, and those extremely tight yoga pants that still made Mamoru blush from time to time, even after he’d long gotten used to the sports bra – she usually didn’t shower there but at home, thus this was a common occurrence. He slowly walked up to her and took her school bag and duffel, which currently contained her school uniform, from her.

 

Usually she’d put her soft little fingers against his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss in greeting. Today, she stood unmoving, eyes directed at her feet, shoulders tense and raised, as if she were afraid he’d come too close.

 

He swallowed, nervous. He was suddenly very, very concerned. And frankly, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to ask her about it. This wasn’t… He felt it in his gut she was disappointed in him. He was terrified he’d done something to break the spell… that she was beginning to see he wasn’t all she believed him to be, that Minako might just be right about him after all.

 

He swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat, and carefully tried to reign the insecure and irrational panic back in. She loved him. He knew that, he could feel that, even right now when she was so angry at him. She was disappointed, guarded, but the feelings below were as unchanging as they would always be.

 

Still…

 

“So…,” he began, trying to catch her eye but she purposefully looked away, even as they started heading down the street and towards the nearest metro station. “How…. Um, how was training?” he asked, and cringed. Way to beat around the bush.

 

She shrugged uncomfortably. “It was ok.”

 

“What did they make you do today?”

 

“Yoga, mostly,” she said, tonelessly.

 

“Oh.”

 

“They said I need more balance…” she trailed off, and they fell silent.

 

He bit his lip. This was weird. This was where he should start chuckling, start joking. It was the perfect entré-point to rile his very unbalanced girlfriend up. He’d start joking with her, tucked underneath his arm, she’d huff and puff and roll her eyes before he’d dip her into a kiss… Instead the conversation trickled to a jerky stop, both feeling the same thing. Walking next to each other yet far apart, as if the air was charged between them.

 

Usagi glanced up at him. Just a moment – the first she’d directly looked at him, yet, and she whipped her head back around immediately, her breath hitching. Her throat was constricting, she was fighting back tears, he felt it as if it was happening to him, and it might just have, because he felt utterly helpless about it for once.

 

She swallowed audibly, her gaze stubbornly directed towards her feet. “Michiru said to bring a swimming suit next time. So she can teach me to make my movements flow more easily.” She was forcing to make conversation, her words pressed, her head somewhere else. He knew, she knew that he knew, and still he was nodding along as if he didn’t notice. “I don’t even know when I’ve last worn mine. I don’t know if it still fits.”

 

“If it doesn’t we’ll go buy you a new one,” he said, his voice coated and breaking.

 

She nodded, mutely. “They still think I’m that messiah-person…” she said in a small voice, towards the ground.

 

“Well, I think so too.”

 

She sighed heavily. “… It’s a dream. And you said yourself you only ever see a silhouette on that pillar…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

 

He cleared his throat before he talked, yet still his voice was hitching. “I’ve dreamed about your silhouette all my life… I’d think I’d recognize it as you, don’t you?”

 

She didn’t answer, only exhaled long and audibly.

 

What remained between them was the most uncomfortable silence he had ever had with anyone, let alone her. The short walk towards the metro station seemed endless, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

 

She wasn’t faring any better. He could feel her anxiety mingled in there with his additionally, riling him up even more. He’d never thought there could ever be a downside to their bond…

 

It got a bit better once they stepped into the crowded metro, and she was pushed slightly into his side. At least she didn’t actively shy away from his proximity…

 

Still…Her hand, that was usually grasping his whenever they walked anywhere, was clenched and curled tightly against her leg, as if she were worried he’d take it.

 

Whatever it is that he did, it was enormous…

 

 When they got off the train, two stops afterwards, and out of their exit, the familiar red cobblestones of Juuban greeting them, he ran his free hand through his hair, pulling at the strands slightly, the other tightening around the handles of their bags.

 

He gulped around the panic in his throat, his adam’s apple bopping erratically. “Usako…What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

 

She snorted softly, sadly. “I could say the same thing…”

 

He looked at her bewildered, jerking his head to the side, confused. He could feel the hurt in her. What _the hell_ had he done?

 

She pursed her lips, and looked straight on with scrunched eyes. “When were you going to tell me you’re going to Harvard?”

 

He stopped dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly.

 

Oh.

 

… _Shit_.

 

He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing would come out, so instead he just blinked at her, shocked, in the spotlight.

 

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned on the spot, storming off in anger.

 

He cursed loudly and shook out of it, hurrying on behind her. “Usako, wait!”

 

“Don’t call me that right now,” she hissed, a few paces ahead of him.

 

They made an odd sight, he was sure of it. He in his vest and dress pants, she in her sports gear, fighting too loudly in the middle of their home district, him hurrying after her, begging her to stop and listen while he explained his faults away…  He had to take a deep breath to calm himself, to find the right words.

 

Her stride was fast and determined, her arms crossed in front of her. He could feel her boiling anger towards him, the disappointment, but at least she wasn’t running – if she were, he wouldn’t be able to catch her.

 

This thought at least, made him a little calmer. If she really wanted to get away she would. But she wasn’t.

 

So he harried his steps, so he was once again next to her, catching up to her long, fast strides. “Please… stop. Let me explain.”

 

“What’s to explain?” Usagi said crossly. “You’re leaving, and you didn’t even bother to talk to me about it first.“

 

He sighed, his breath a bit labored, and then he frowned, hard.  “Who told you that?”

 

Her steps slowed at that, until she stopped fully, sighing, defeated, and his heart missed a beat when her lips started quivering, and he could feel the lump in his throat only grow bigger in answer. “Does it matter?” she whispered, hoarsely.

 

“Yes,” he said, loudly, sternly, determined. “Because it’s wrong.”

 

He could feel her heart stutter, the way she held her breath for a moment, her eyes flying towards his, finally. “What?” she breathed.

 

“I’m not going,” he said, voice strong and sure, and took a step towards her, holding her gaze. Her eyes were brimming with conflicting emotions.

 

He could _feel_ the relief flooding through her, and yet she said, “What? Mamo-chan… but… it’s such a great opportunity… I mean they _chose_ you… you’d—”

 

The next step he took practically closed the gap between them. Only a sliver of space remained between them, as it usually was. “As I said,” he interrupted, leaning slightly towards her, “I’m not going. I promise.”

 

They were standing in the middle of the footpath, blocking passer-bys that shopped and strolled along Juuban-Dori and shot them irritated looks, but Usagi didn’t even notice them, he saw, and he blocked them out. She was still confused, kept her hands to herself. In her he felt relief, guilt, worry…

 

“But Mamo-chan… it’s Harvard. You _need_ —“

 

He swallowed, and broke eye-contact for just a moment to sigh and look exasperatedly into the distance, before he looked back at her and brought a hesitant hand to her chin. She didn’t flinch, he noted, relieved. “ _That’s_ exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

 

“Wha—“

 

“—I knew you’d think I should go. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t,” he said, his eyes intense, his whole frame bent over her.

 

“But… ,“ she said, her voice still trembling, her eyes shining, before the look in them hardened slightly again, accusingly, ” _isn’t_ it because of me?”

 

He bit his lip again, eyes trying to bore into her, to read her reaction before he’d even spoken. “Yes… and no.”

 

She frowned, perplexed.

 

He sighed before he spoke. “Well, for one,” his voice dropped to a whisper, suddenly more conscious about their surroundings,  “do you _really_ think Tuxedo Mask would leave Sailor Moon to face any potential danger on her own? I know I’m not as strong as you, but… I’ve got your back. Always...”

 

She blinked, then frowned. She wanted to protest, he could see that, feel it… that whatever Tomoe was doing, and no matter these silly dreams they all yapped on about, nothing had really happened – aside from that silly microwave – and whatever came, she could deal with it. But he stopped her, talked over her.

 

“ _But_ … in truth, it’s because… Usako… you can’t even _imagine_ how lonely I was before I found you,“ he said, and she snapped her mouth shut, blinking up at him, “and I don’t mean since we got together in this life… I mean since I _found_ you in this life… Even when we were only running into each other on purpose and riling each other up… even then I wouldn’t have left anymore. I need you… Usa… it’s…”

 

She swallowed thickly, and he ran his hand back through his hair and smiled at her sheepishly, before continuing. “You brought all the color into my life…you know? Harvard is… it would be… “, he sighed, shaking his head, and she _, finally_ , grasped his hands, tenderly. “All the prestige in the world that university brings with it, I’d just be spending my days missing my other half, it would all be colorless.”

 

She stopped. He felt her heart beating fast, she was flushed, torn, somehow, between joy and exasperation, conflicted.

 

“But… Mamo-chan… I _can’t_ be the reason you don’t fulfill your dreams. I can’t. You _need_ to go.” Her voice was almost angry again.

 

He exhaled, and pulled her reluctant form towards him, touching his forehead against hers, never breaking eye-contact. He tried to look at her as sincerely as he could, opening all his feelings up to her so she’d understand. “Usa… it’s _not_ my dream.”

 

She frowned, the movement on her forehead pulling at his slightly. “But…You want to be a doctor.”

 

“Yes,” he said, “and I can do that here. Keio is a wonderful university.” She looked at him skeptically. “But even being a doctor is not my _dream_. It’s a means to an end. It’s so I can save people, keep them from harm, be allowed to heal anyone.”

 

She inhaled deeply, through her nose. He could feel the lift of her chest against his frame, the hope fluttering from her through their bond, and he smiled at her warmly.

 

“My dream is to protect this world with you. So we can all live happily in it,” he said, and it broke a dam.

 

She sobbed.

 

She couldn’t hold it in anymore and fell against his frame, her arms flying around him, crushing him, clawing at his dark blue button-down shirt.  

 

She was so, so, so relieved, it oozed out of her every pore, and he cursed whoever had told her.

 

He wrapped his arms around her in return, curling his body around hers, trying to mold her against him.

 

She hiccupped into his chest, her tears dampening the fabric, her fingers clawing into his back even through his shirt, and he only held her tighter in response. “I’m still mad you …didn’t even …talk to me about it …though,” she ground out between relieved sobs, and he couldn’t help but chuckle in his flinch, which made her grunt in irritation, but slowed down her sobs and tears.

 

“ _You_ said I’d have a say in big decisions…,” she mumbled and he gulped. She was right, he knew that.

 

They stood like that for a while, clawing at each other, relieved.

 

Her sobs subsided completely, her breathing turned calmer, and his heart slowed down, as well. Suddenly he could hear the street noises again, the people tutting about the two of them blocking the way like that, making a display like that, the rustle and hustle of a busy Tokyo street in the afternoon, of sliding doors and jingling chimes when people entered or exited the conbinis, of exaggerated voices greeting customers.

 

His breathing calmer now, the urgency and fright of the situation gone, Usagi felt softer in his arms, the tension in her gone, and he was suddenly aware of her warm naked skin under one of his hands around her bare midriff, about the slow rise and fall of her chest that was crushed to his body, about the smell of her hair and dried sweat.

 

“Mamo-chan…,” she murmured after a while, breaking him out of his thoughts, “… it’s _Harvard_ …” Her voice was completely muffled by his shirt.

 

He sighed. “Well, you know…,” Mamoru started, putting his cheek against the crown of her head, clutching at her tightly, “I thought… _maybe_ , when you’ve graduated, maybe I could go when I’m in grad school, and you could come with me?… I would go if you could imagine going with me…”

 

Her hands twitched at his back, he could feel her shoulders roll, trying to look up at him, but he didn’t give her time to voice the questions he could feel.  “We could travel a bit before… See this world we’re protecting.”

 

Her hands curled back into the fabric. “…Makes sense as the prince of earth,” she murmured.

 

“We could try all the different foods in all the places we go…,” he said, his voice turning hopeful, suggestive and she chuckled.  “Just an idea, but… would you think about it?”

 

She nodded into his chest, and he let his shoulders slump.

 

“Well, wouldn’t it be hard for me to come along? I mean… you’d get a student visa… but I?” she said. She was barely understandable, talking directly into his chest, but he was used to it, and thus could understand her perfectly.

 

Still, he let go of her slightly so he could look her in the eyes. He needed to see her reacting for what he was about to say.

 

He gulped at her blinking, open face. “Well,… It wouldn’t be so hard if we were married before that…”

 

Her eyes turned impossibly soft, and she cocked her head up at him, her lips forming into an impossibly warm smile.

 

L

 

Hotaru was on her way to her classroom. School had long ended, but this was Infinity, so lots of students still lingered around for club activity or other extracurricullars.

 

Really, she just wanted a place of refuge for a little while. Somewhere quiet where she could read and hide until she had her scheduled appointment with her father.

 

She sighed for a moment, because yes, this was the kind of relationship they had, she and her only living relative: scheduled appointments.

 

It used to be different, of course. It used to be so loving, before…

 

She shook her head, and entered her classroom. It was bright, the sun shone through the tall windows, and with the room being so high up in this giant building that was her school, there was no building nearby that would block the sunlight on its way in.

 

She walked up to the windows and opened one, to let a breeze in. It rustled the leaves and flower petals of a bunch of potted blue impatients that stood on the small window pane. They were a bit withered from the sun, hanging limp, and she couldn’t keep the feeling away that they were somehow her kindred spirits.

 

They were, after all, frequently called ‘touch me nots’, and she also felt blue and withered. Broken. 

 

They were tended over by one of her classmates – Ryoko. Botany Club. She’d heard her complain a lot that these flowers here just weren’t growing as she would like them to. She didn’t like the girl very much. In fact, she didn’t like the girl at all.

 

But she figured that wasn’t the plant’s fault.

 

Hotaru slowly peeled off one of her black leather gloves, and, holding her breath, she touched one brown-tinted petal leaf.

 

It shimmered, immediately, and with just this touch of Hotaru’s magic, the blossoms once again stood – tall, strong, radiantly blue. Alive. Healed.

 

Hotaru smiled at the little plant. It was a sad smile, but it was all she could manage, and she wished, so dearly, that she could do for herself what she could do for those flowers. Mending.

 

But, alas, she wasn’t something one could mend. Her mechanic limbs and the darkness she could feel within herself reminded her of that every day.

 

Replacing her glove, she sighed, sat, and flipped open her book. A heavy, 900+ page tome, ‘Vanished Kingdoms -  History of the Half Forgotten Europe’. It spoke to her in ways she was uncomfortable to talk about – this draw she felt… to ruin and destruction, to places that no longer were.

 

It was eerie. It frightened her, this darkness.

 

She felt two entities within herself; one destroyed for passion, for a purpose, for a goal and found joy in it; the other destroyed for order, rationally, almost coldly and without empathy, and found beauty in it.

 

Hotaru did not know which of the two she was more afraid of, which of the two she could control and which would eat her alive until nothing of herself was left.

 

And she didn't know, either, which of the two she had these strange abilities from, though she did know which of them urged her to use them more, craved for that feeling of power it gave her.

 

The door creaked open, making Hotaru jump nervously, not too slightly. She must have come across like a scared little deer, and it bothered her.

 

The girls – Ryoko, of all people, and one of her friends, jumped slightly, both at seeing Hotaru sitting here and her obvious frightful reaction.

 

Ryoko snickered, and rolled her eyes dramatically, for her friend’s benefit. “Aww, did I frighten you, little porcelain doll?” she sneered, and her friend giggled behind a held up hand.

 

Hotaru’s eyes narrowed, glaring fiercely. Damn, did she hate that girl.

 

Ryoko held a big, bright red, plastic watering can in her hand, filled to the brim, and walked toward the impatients Hotaru had just revived. She just watered away, not even acknowledging its current state or that it didn’t need any watering at all.

 

They made their way back out, but not without throwing Hotaru peculiar looks. And with a sniff and an eye roll, Ryoko called, in that sneering voice of hers, “Try not to break, little porcelain doll!” behind her back as they exited the room with a cruel giggle.

 

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Hotaru to exhale harshly.

 

She’d been gripping the sides of her desk with both hands, gloves clawing at the wood. Everything in her screamed to rebel, to throttle… to destroy. To take her gloves off and run after Ryoko. To show  that repugnant person why she didn’t touch.

 

Hotaru had to close her eyes, willing the darkness back inside her, clenching her teeth.

 

They ground so loudly in her jaw she felt she’d crack them. She could barely contain the agitated forces pushing up from her core.

 

Angry, frustrated tears sprang from her eyes, and with a feral grunt she tore her gloves back off her twitching hands, as she strode back to the impatients.

 

Touch me nots.

 

She touched them, and immediately, they withered, shrunk, and died, until only dried out blackened sticks remained of them, the blossoms crumbled to ash.

 

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So… I love Hotaru. She might even be my most favorite to write. But she’s DEFINITELY also the hardest – to hit this very narrow border between kind, fragile and creepy.
> 
>  
> 
> So, I would totally love, cherish, and whoop at everything you have to say about that! Talk to me, please!
> 
>  
> 
> And also, no Harvard. We’re not doing that shit here xD


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys, SO MUCH, for all the feedback I got on last chapter – it helped me immensely to know you guys are still here! And, as always, thank you to UglyGreenJacket, who is looking over this all for me!

 L

 

Mamoru snapped the book he was reading shut, as he rounded the corner towards the Crown. ‘Companion to Middle and Eastern European Architecture Traditions’. He’d checked the book out at Keio University library for Ami, just half an hour previously. And he could definitely see the pull in it. Ami was, among _so_ much else, onto echoes of the Silver Millennium and its traditions in modern societies, right now.  And this one, well… this was about the Golden Kingdom, really. She was comparing its architecture styles to the very similar ones that popped up on the European continent centuries after.  Though, of course, given that architecture in the Golden Kingdom had been heavily inspired by the Architecture of the Silver Millennium... Well.

 

He sighed, deep in thought. Humans back then aspired a lot to the customs of the Silver Millennium, even as they felt slighted, too arrogant as they were, and had felt ridiculed at some point to be out-shadowed by their own moon – and an alliance governed by women that they weren’t a part of. But that was the eternal story of envy and entitlement, he guessed... Hate always had an easy way in.

 

He looked up, and right into the eyes of Minako.

 

Both of them groaned a bit – he right under his breath, she openly and dramatically, and he rolled his eyes in answer.

 

Well, he couldn’t _not_ walk with her the rest of the way, seeing as they were heading toward the same destination.

 

Minako frowned at him sideways. “It’s Wednesday,” she said.

 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “So?”

 

She shook her head with a dramatic eye roll, as if he were too dense. “Well, where’s Usagi-chan?”

 

He lifted up the book he brought for Ami, shaking it uselessly. “Gone with Mako-chan to buy some Manga that came out today, while I checked this out for Ami.”

 

“Ah,” she nodded, frowned, opened her mouth, blinked, and closed it again.

 

Yeah. The feeling was mutual. He didn’t know what else to say to her either.

 

He sighed, and ran a head through his disheveled hair. It wasn’t even that he didn’t like the girl… he was pretty much just afraid of her. He was pretty sure, every time she looked at him, she was thinking about new ways to castrate him. And then there was the matter that they had absolutely nothing in common, besides Usagi…

 

It hadn’t even started off that badly. They’d been civil. But the more the weeks and months had passed, the more Minako had led on that she blamed him for Serenity’s death. And if he was entirely honest, he absolutely agreed with her.

 

And, maybe, it was because she struck a chord with him that spoke to all these inner insecurities – he wasn’t strong enough to protect her, had never been – even though Minako had never said them out loud like that, and most probably never would, it had become a pattern.

 

A few months in and the petty arguments had started. They were about nothing, basically.

 

Some of those were the ‘easy’ ones; apparently he swallowed too loudly for her taste and tended to click his ‘ _bloody_ ’ pen ‘ _a bloody gazillion times per second_ ’ when he concentrated, also his fidgeting was making her grind her teeth so loudly he could hear it from across the room, causing him to snap his legs shut immediately by now.

 

And then there were the more complicated, conflicting ones. Usagi sometimes didn’t like to be mothered. This included chivalry. And he _was_ a very chivalrous person, and most things he insisted doing for her she enjoyed, even when _she_ insisted he shouldn’t. So, those were ok. But some things, he just simply wasn’t allowed to do for her; she felt not taken seriously if he did. So, he didn’t watch like a hawk anymore lest she fall, or didn’t bother offering anymore to do the dishes whenever it was her turn to do so (I mean, he had his turns, too!) – not to mention that that was a mother daughter ritual for her and Ikuko that he didn’t want to intrude on more often than not. The latter though, when seen by Minako for the first time, had had her starting a month long argument whether or not he was a chauvinistic asshole that agreed women belonged in the kitchen. And it had been followed by many similar ones, leading him to, by now, basically leap into every puddle on the ground for his girlfriend– which annoyed Usagi more than not – for the sole reason that Minako was around to watch, and he didn’t want to be thought of as an entitled dick. There. He ground _his_ teeth, whenever he only thought about these arguments.

 

Or that time she gave him crap for _weeks_ for letting Luna talk to Usagi ‘ _that way’,_ when at the same time Minako had agreed with Luna, _too_! Luna had had a point, damn it, she had been right!

 

(Plus, he wasn’t going to go around scolding _kittens_ , now, was he?!)

 

He sighed. Suffice to say, they riled each other up, and well… he did know she’d prefer he weren’t around… Not that she’d ever said so, and yes, he did know she’d _never_ keep Usagi and him apart, but still… What if she was right? What if she was right and Usagi saw it, too, if Minako pointed her finger at his faults long enough?

 

Minako was opening her mouth again, turning to him to say something, and closing it back up with a frown.

 

He exhaled deeply. How could this be so difficult? Yes, he was socially inept, but this was just painful.

 

He was saved by a cat.

 

Artemis hopped onto Minako’s shoulder from seemingly nowhere, and Mamoru took what he had.

 

“Artemis!” he beamed at the white feline. “I haven’t seen you in a while!” He reached up one hand towards the tiny cat and stroked him underneath his kittenish-soft chin, running his long, tapered fingers through plush white fur, to which Artemis began to purr, and then blushed about it, clearing his throat, but still hopped off Minako’s shoulder and into Mamoru’s arms.

 

What could he say? He was a cat person. They flocked to him, and he to them.

 

The appalled look Minako threw Artemis all but screamed, ‘ _You traitor!_ ’

 

And it was true anyway. He _hadn’t_ seen Artemis in a while. He and Luna took turns surveilling and patrolling the perimeter of the Tomoe estate basically around the clock – whenever any of the two Tomoes were home and awake, as they only had a camera watching the _entrance_ of the house, but none on the inside. Seeing as trying to break in and place cameras several months ago had horrendously backfired… It was a sheer miracle none of them had been detected. It had been Ami, Minako, and himself on that mission. Mamoru personally still blamed Minako for the fuck up (and likewise, how could it be any other way between them?) Wasn't _she_ supposed to be the strategist?

 

Anyway.

 

Artemis ducked his head quickly, probably fearing thunderous drama, Mamoru assumed, and turned to look back at Minako with obvious terror in his little kitten eyes.

 

But at the look of her tiny cat with those big alarmed eyes her shoulder slumped, and she shrugged, deciding to let it slide, or so it seemed, obviously just for once, as Artemis breathed a sigh of relief in Mamoru’s arms. Mamoru had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from chuckling, as they approached the set of swing doors of their destination.

 

But, upon entering, Mamoru’s head perked up, and he immediately stopped and leaned against the door, holding it open effectively, for what seemed like absolutely no reason to anyone looking.

 

Minako looked at him bewildered and then turned her gaze behind them – no one there. The look she threw him was one he knew quite well from her; had he lost his marbles completely now?

 

“There’s no one there…,” Minako said doubtfully, slowly, as if to a child.

 

He rolled his eyes. “Yet.”

 

But – the reason he had stopped was fast approaching. A few moments – half a minute altogether, at the most, Usagi appeared in front of the propped open doorway, Mako-chan in her wake.  She beamed at him with those big, blue eyes and pouty lips even in her smile, and leaning up for a quick peck in greeting, was entirely unsurprised to see him.

 

And of course she wasn’t. She felt him around like he did her.

 

Minako sighed in understanding and shook her head while taking off inside. “Really, that’s sweet, somehow, I admit it, but sometimes you’re just creepy, you two,” she said it just the tiniest bit reproachfully, but with a wink directed at Usagi.

 

And he did notice her whole change in demeanor, of course, once Usagi had entered the room. She was suddenly cheerful, smiling at her from ear to ear. This was what always happened.

 

Minako loved Usagi unconditionally. He knew that. The feeling was coming in waves off the girl, whenever Usagi was around. Maybe, _maybe_ she loved her even as much as he did.

 

“You’re just jealous,” Usagi laughed at her, to which Minako cuffed her side, and with a wink replied,

 

“Of course I am.”

 

While Makoto came and engulfed him in a big warm hug, they went in to find Ami and Rei waiting, the latter looking at her slender elegant wristwatch with a scowl, in the farthest corner booth of the Crown Fruit Parlor.

 

Rei looked up at them with narrowed eyes, ready to pounce. “Oh, how nice of you to drop in,” she deadpanned.

 

Well, to be fair, he _was_ the only person of the bunch arriving that had announced beforehand that he would be late.

He slid in beside Ami wordlessly, Artemis still hanging from his arm, and placed him carefully next to him. Makoto patted his little kitten head, to which he glowered at her (he really didn’t like being treated like a kitten), and glowered again as Makoto asked him if it were Luna’s turn to watch the Tomoes now? (“How come you guys only ever greet me with, ‘where’s Luna’?!” Minako did rub off on him on the drama a bit.)

 

He handed Ami her book with a smile while having her swear to let him pick her brain when she was done with it, while Usagi apologized to Rei profusely, holding up her new Manga editions as proof and sliding over the one she’d bought for Rei because it had reminded her of her – which seemed to be accepted as a peace offering with a mutter and a grumble. Meanwhile Minako had already hollered most of their orders over towards Unazuki, entirely too loud, of course.

 

He did enjoy these outings with the girls. Immensely. Felt at home even as Minako rolled her eyes at anything he said and vice versa. And he had to admit, as long as he wasn’t forced to talk to her directly, watching Minako and Usagi in action was hilarious. The way they both talked too loudly, yelled all across the Parlor so often, how they’d sometimes slurp their milkshakes in exact synchronicity, or cry out in outrage over the exact same things and so completely over the top.

 

It baffled him a bit, to see how similar Minako was to his soulmate in so many ways, and yet he and she had no common ground at all.

 

Or seeing Minako’s confusing usage of idioms in use, or how she would break out in song whenever someone accidentally spoke in song lyrics – Even if it was simply only ‘Question!’ or ‘Stop’ directed at her, she would stand there, ‘ _In the naaaame of looove_ ’ing it, complete with imaginary microphones in her overdramatically gesticulating hands.

 

Or – though he would never let on and keep his face neutral and indifferent about the matter if it killed him, he _did_ find it entirely too amusing – whenever Minako got her hands on Rei’s or Makoto’s phones to change their ringtones to something entirely offensive and crude – like Let’s Get It On, Anaconda, Push It, or Candy Shop. And how, _every time_ , Rei and Makoto tended to come in, red-faced to the roots of their hair, and yell at Minako because they’d only noticed when their phone rang in front of their teacher/at a mediation course/in the middle of a quiet bus ride. (Usagi was mostly spared from Minako’s trolling, though only because it wasn’t that funny to Minako when her victim found this totally cool, plus Usako’s ringtones were already utterly ridiculous to begin with. While he, on the other hand, had learned, like Ami, immediately, to never, _ever_ leave his phone lying around unlocked, and to _always_ keep it on vibrate only, _just in case_ ).

 

Currently, or so Usagi had told him, they were still waiting for Rei to notice and blow her top that _this time_ Minako had only changed just one individual ring tone on Rei’s phone – her own – to ‘Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps’. That one had been a while coming, though, seeing as, much to Minako’s dismay, Rei hadn’t switched her phone back from vibrate for a week or so now. But… he did secretly wish that he was present when this happened, too –though, of course the only person he couldn’t hide this fact from was Usagi, who liked to snicker at him for it.

 

Unazuki pretty soon came with overladen trays full of fruit parfaits, milkshakes, fries and pancakes – most of that for his girlfriend, of course, and a black coffee (him) and two simple green teas (Rei and Ami). She stayed to chat for a few moments until leaving them to it, and the girls’ topics hopped from one to the other a lot, though very often back to their training sessions.

 

He noticed Minako scowl deeply whenever the topic came up, which surprised him. After all, she and Mako-chan were the ones designing and executing these training sessions. But maybe, he thought, maybe it had to do with the fact that Minako was the last of the Inner Senshi who had yet to get her Super Transformation… Though he could only guess, of course. Plus, Minako wore pretty much the same scowl whenever they talked about Usagi’s training sessions, so he couldn’t really know…

 

Although he could agree on _that_ with her, at the very least. The intense training was wearing Usagi down. And not even in the challenging way, or so she said, but simply emotionally, and it worried him.

 

He sighed, while Makoto and Minako started talking about Minako’s latest date (seemed to have been a disaster), and looked over towards Usagi, who sat right across from him, a blissful moan on her lips as she sighed happily into her enormous bowl of ice cream and fruit, and his lips tucked up in amusement.  

 

He would never tire of seeing her enjoy these simple things in life with such utter satisfaction.  The way her eyes would flutter shut like a butterfly’s wings with every spoonful, her whole body curving in on itself with the sensation, the moans coming deep from her belly as she rolled her eyes into the back of her head.

 

The whole thing tended, unsurprisingly, to remind him of another pastime where Usagi made very similar sounds, and he had to blink, catching her eye, and blushed, pushing the thought to the back of his mind, and instead just watched heaps of sugary food disappear behind his girlfriend’s lips.

 

And really, he didn’t know anyone who could enjoy life quite as much as she could. In fact – she enjoyed it much more than Serenity ever could.

 

It made him ponder a bit. He knew, of course, more than anyone else, really, that Serenity and Usagi were not the same person at all.

 

They might have the same core personality, but, in a way, Mamoru thought, Usako was what Serenity could have been had she not been confined into this lonely prison of aristocracy, prodded and nudged until she moved and talked a certain way, "fit for a princess"…

 

Usako, Serenity, _his wife_ (even if not in this lifetime, _yet_ ), was not someone who bloomed in captivity, imprisoned in a high castle. She was someone who needed to run free, needed to connect with people, constantly and on eye-level. She wanted to protect, wanted and needed to live, enjoy, to the fullest, without restraints, be they for propriety’s sake or other. She needed to be excited for small and silly things, throw exaggerated temper tantrums over absolutely nothing at all, needed to be allowed to live this big range of emotions within her to its maximum and in all its variation...

 

She was the doer, not the one to be protected. And she was the one who could be as happy with a huge bowl of ice cream when one allowed her to indulge to her heart’s desire than other people could only dream of ever feeling. She radiated happiness, and she needed it…

 

 Dampening her was cutting away some of her heart, and this had been what Serenity's life had consisted of. Look pretty, be graceful, be diplomatic, you can't go down to Earth, this isn't proper, not so loud, your Highness.

 

Yes... Serenity had also been playful, happy, giggly, full of life and with that deep emotional wisdom in all her naivety that no one could learn from books -  it had been, even back then, what had drawn him to her, but she was also lonely, and longed so deeply for a free life on his planet, longed to be free and wild, just the way she imagined this planet to be.

 

But Usako... Usako had been allowed to be just herself growing up, had stubbornly not listened when teachers shook their heads trying to quiet her spirit and so she was perfect. She was Usako.

 

And it made her so strong, this warrior of love and justice, so bursting with love and life and acceptance for every last person on this planet: her giant heart had room for them all.

 

And so he was so extremely scared for her, because he saw it happening again. The cats - however much he loved them - trying to make Usagi into the princess they remembered. The Outers, trying to mold her into the messiah they believed the world needed… When in truth this was already Usagi at her fullest, she was perfect the way she was.

 

He didn't have something against training, learning, growing, obviously, he had something against people wanting to change who she was.

 

And yes, of course, she changed - she was getting older, more mature as any person coming into adulthood was, himself included. She was less likely to burst into tears than when they'd first met –now years ago – was quieter and more thoughtful, and undoubtedly their rather adult and deep relationship in any way – plus one added lifetime of memories – had done their share in that change… But most of that was natural, unforced progression of who she was.

 

Still, his hair would stand on end and his back would arch when people told her that she couldn’t eat all of that, that she needed to stay quiet when she yelled in cheer, that she shouldn't wear something so short, and he'd growl and buy her a second slice of said cake, urge her on in her cheer, tell her she could and should wear exactly what she liked and he'd protect, fiercely, everything that was so uniquely Usagi.

 

But there were some things he just had no say in. Like all this training that was forced upon her…

 

“Mamo-chan…,” she said, softly, right across from him, breaking him out of his thoughts. Her look was concerned, reading his feelings no doubt.

 

He shook out of it, and blinked, having completely ignored the conversation around him, which was obviously back to business.

 

“ –probes he uses are all organic, all numbered and registered. He’s just testing them. But –“ Ami frowned, stopping in her daily report, “the strangest thing, to me, is that he’s not writing any papers about his testing? Shouldn’t he be writing about his results if there was nothing fishy here?”

 

The girls all nodded solemnly, and he blinked.

 

Ami, with the help of the cats, had been surveilling Tomoe for weeks now. Just superficially right at the beginning – after all, she had found Chaos in both his genetically engineered eggs _and_ in his daughter – and on full scale ever since he (accidentally? They still had no clue) managed to have kitchen appliances up and walking and angry. A one-time occurrence, and they still weren’t even sure if he’d been _aware_ of what he’d done, but still – enough to worry, especially since he and Rei were both dreaming of red tinted apocalypses.

 

Those were quite unsettling, to say the least…

 

“Anyway,” Ami continued, and Artemis nodded his little head right along, “he’s not doing anything suspicious per se. And Hotaru seems to be fine. In fact, I think her simulation is bringing me to a turning point in my search for Chaos.”

 

Minako nodded, as did Rei, and Ami’s shoulders slumped back down, a bit frustrated – caused by the fact, if he knew her at all by now, that she just simply didn’t understand Professor Tomoe. He puzzled her, and Ami didn’t do well on not understanding things. It unsettled her.

 

To be honest, he’d first even suspected she had a little crush on her professor - in that quite asexual way of Ami's, of course. But then again, what attracted Ami to other people in the first place was _intelligence_ , so it only seemed logical. He'd first voiced the thought, in a setting much like this one, when, months ago, the girls gave Ami a hard time about her composer friend.

 

Ami had nodded, blushing somewhat but all in all rather unphased, mumbling something about ‘ _sapiosexuality_ ’, the neologistic term for people whose sexual orientation revolved around being attracted to people one found to be exceptionally intelligent, something which he'd have very much liked to discuss with her if it weren't for his girlfriend jumping up in front of him appalled, spreading her arms in front of him, blocking Ami's view of him.

 

Makoto had fallen into a laughing fit while Rei and Minako had rolled their eyes, and Minako had, very quickly, remarked that Usagi had naught to worry, Ami was way smarter than Mamoru.

 

And he'd have felt offended if it weren't so very true. He was smart, very smart, accomplished, approached by foreign universities smart... but he played in no league of Ami's. She was smarter than any person on this planet.

 

Filing patents at age 10 that left her wealthy for fifteen lifetimes probably, writing scientific papers that changed paradigms at age 14 and onward... there wasn't only Harvard applications lying on Ami's desk, he knew. And if the Japanese school system allowed for skipping years, then Ami would have graduated by the time others switched to middle school, if not even earlier. As it was though, he was still sure she'd have her first doctorate degree within her graduation year.

 

“And the dreams?” Minako asked, and his gaze found hers. She was all business again, leader of the Senshi, and looking between him and Rei expectantly.

 

“Nothing new,” he said, and there hadn’t been, and Rei, beside him, shook her head. He did a double take, not letting it show tough, for a tiny second.

 

He wasn’t the best at reading Rei’s emotions, but he couldn’t keep from getting the feeling there was something she wasn’t saying.

 

He looked at her, but her eyes narrowed, pointedly, and with a tiny scowl and a miniature shake of her head she effectively told him to let it slide. He frowned, but he did. Filing it away for later.

 

“This isn’t getting anywhere is it?” Makoto sighed next to him.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, beating Minako and Usagi to the punch.

 

“This. Tomoe, dreams. We’re not getting any further. I think it’s a dead-end to be honest. Who knows if Tomoe even _is_ the threat in your dreams? Red swirling hurricanes, right? Tearing up the city?” Makoto said gloomily.

 

He and Rei both nodded. One way to describe them, he supposed.

 

“Doesn’t sound to me like something mister-crazy-pants could do in his lab with rampant possessed kitchen appliances,” she said, propping up her elbows on the table, and stealing a fry from Usagi’s plate, who didn’t bother swatting her hand away anymore, before Makoto continued, this time with her mouth full. “Sounds more like natural disaster.”

 

Ami shook her head vehemently, “I’ve got the—“

 

“ – seismographic and meteorological readings under control, I know,” Makoto interrupted her, “but… what if it’s not a _natural,_ natural disaster.”

 

“Well, what other thing could cause giant otherworldly magical hurricanes?” Usagi asked, perplexed.

 

Makoto raised her eyebrows, pointing at herself without changing her expression whatsoever.

 

With that, the table began to frown and fidget, or so it seemed to Mamoru.

 

Minako frowned, “But you wouldn’t ever –“

 

“Of course I wouldn’t!” Makoto said quickly. “Just saying, there’s more ways to this. We should go broader.”

 

Ami sighed heavily, with scrunched up brows. “I’ll run a search tonight for more possible and more abstract origins.”

 

“And Luna and I can also get on – _meeoowww_ ,” Artemis’s little kitten voice became, in an instant, just that – little kitten noise. Mamoru had cupped Artemis’s forehead next to him, almost on reflex, when he saw Unazuki approaching the table again. And it did what it always did – disturbing the cat’s ability to speak.  Like any other cats, Mauans, at least in their cat form, couldn’t naturally talk. Only Luna and Artemis could, courtesy to the crescent moon marks on their foreheads. A gift from Queen Serenity millennia ago, and Sailor Moon had magically, and inadvertently, reinforced the pact in this life. It also meant though, when you blocked the spot, they couldn't talk. Something that sometimes came quite in handy, and something that Mamoru knew Artemis rather wished Mina didn't know, most of the time.

 

He, at least, was being sensible and responsible when he held it closed. Minako was mostly just being a troll when she did.

 

They had all started out of their reverie when Unazuki appeared back at their table, and he had to hand it to both Minako and Makoto – they were incredibly fast to paint cheerful nothing-happened-here-just-gossip smiles on their faces so quickly.

 

“So, any juicy stories for me today?” Unazuki drawled.

 

And with this the girls were off again. Apparently, Umino had signed Naru and himself into some extremely silly, ‘Affection Contest for Lovers’, that sounded just like Japanese National TV, and his girlfriend was looking at him with entirely too hopeful eyes while this tidbit was being told.

 

No. Way.

 

 

L

 

_“Status: Minus 3 years and 70 days to present day.”_

 

Athena’s artificial voice sounded pleasant, melodic, but still very much that, artificial, as it came from everywhere and nowhere at once in the Senshi Command Central.

 

It was the middle of the night, and Ami’s eyes were glued to the screen with alarm.

 

She had fed Hotaru’s simulation of all the universe into Athena’s memory, to let her observe and calculate every single star system in it, all across the universe, for traces of Chaos.

 

A near perfect replica of all of the universe’s history, accurate to the day that Hotaru had created the simulation, 8 days ago, and afterwards progressively off kilter. It fed from the moment she had directed her consciousness of how the universe's state was, and had been, until right that moment, into this single bout of sparkling energy.

 

She had come across an innumerable number of cases of destruction, formerly unobserved and undetected, both before and after the fall of the Silver Millennium. It was mind-numbing.

 

And currently, Athena had zeroed in on the Status of one particular star system.

 

Humans called this star system SDSS J1416+1348. It was a system with two suns; brown dwarfs; and no known planets in it to human observation, only a mere 27.9 light years away and thus _much_ too close to home for comfort.

 

It felt, to Ami, like witnessing a taking of hostages in the bank you currently stood in, just that for some stroke of ‘luck’, the gun was pointed at the person cowering next to you, instead of yourself.

 

And, of course, there was a planet there. One that had been very well known to the inhabitants of the Silver Millennium, even though none but Queen Serenity herself had ever been in contact with any of its government.

 

“ _Status:  Minus 2 years and 340 days to present day_.”

 

A pacifist society, matriarchal, somewhat telepathic, musical. Ami knew it by the name of ‘Kinmoku’.

 

And she was currently witnessing its destruction.

 

“ _Status: Minus 2 years and 20 days to present day_.”

 

It had taken longer here, on Kinmoku, than on Earth, back then. The slow and gradual infestation of hate and doubt, envy and presumption, arrogance and cruelty, sparked by Chaos.  The slow choking of empathy and humanity, until only greed and anger and fear were left.

 

On Earth, it had had an easier way in. Its people had already been proud and self-conscious. 160 days it had been until Metallia had infested every last inch of the planet, planted her seed.

 

The Tau Ceti Star System had lasted only a little bit longer; its people not so susceptible to  stewed fear and angered speech, but it too had fallen and succumbed to Chaos’s persuasion, in 290 days.

 

Kinmoku… Kinmoku was infamous, all across the known universe, as the most tranquil and peaceful society to ever live in existence.

 

And Kinmoku was falling, had, to this point of the simulation, been withstanding Chaos for almost two years. But it, too, was crumbling. It, too, couldn’t withstand the hate it fed into its people’s hearts.

 

 “ _Status: Minus 1 year and 110 days to present day.”_

 

 Ami’s hands were clawed into the control panel, knuckles white, face ashen in the face of what she saw.

 

Even on Kinmoku, pacifist Kinmoku, Chaos ended up acting the same way. She could see all of it happen on this grand, impersonal way of looking down on it from above, and yet she knew nothing of its content, because sight was the only observation tool at her service. But still, she could interpret, if not hear or single out. She saw a people, out of fear, willingly help their own henchmen rise to power and kill everything that was good.  Their henchmen; a gold plated warrior, completely engulfed by pure, undiluted Chaos energy, and her servants.

 

And still, there was resistance. People who couldn’t be persuaded by the promise of power, who couldn’t be seduced. Incredibly many brave people, shouting loud against the hate. They had existed on Earth as well, of course, but they had not been enough, and they weren’t here.

 

And Senshi, brave silhouettes against the destruction, protecting their people– all of them, those that had been turned and those that hadn’t, in this battle Ami knew from experience could not be won.

 

“ _Status: Minus 200 days to present day_.”

 

And then, the beginning of the end. Cities destroyed both manmade and Chaos-induced, through civil wars, manmade natural disaster, famines, magical destruction and amplified hate.

 

Until nothing of Kinmoku was left, until Kinmoku itself began to crumble.

 

“ _Status: Minus 20 days to present day_.”

 

It was purgatory. Kinmoku was burning.

 

But then…

 

Ami realized something.

 

“ _Status: Present day.”_

Kinmoku _was_ burning, but… it wasn’t dead, yet. The battle was still raging, right now.

 

Kinmoku wasn’t lost, yet.  

 

Even if Hotaru’s simulation might not be 100% perfect…There might still be time.

 

She rushed, breathless, toward her bag, and with trembling fingers, she fumbled to get out her communicator to call Minako.

 

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Kinmokuuuu!
> 
> On the way lighter note of the previous scene:
> 
> I feel compelled to remind you that that forehead crescent moon blocking = no cat talking is a thing. Just the very first act and episode as example? Luna and the band-aid?
> 
>  
> 
> Plus, there are two headcanons I included here, that weren’t mine:
> 
> For the cats and how they got their crescent moons I heavily draw on timemachineyeah, here (cause those posts are brilliant. Check her tumblr out!)
> 
> And,
> 
> this brilliant idea of Minako trolling the girls with their ringtones also doesn’t go back to me, sadly, I’ve just shamelessly used it. All credit of that one goes to keyofjetwolf’s hilarious headcanons (go find her on tumblr,too!)
> 
>  
> 
> As for the song Minako used on Rei’s phone: pretty sure you know that song of course, but, the version of the song Minako put into Rei’s phone as her own ringtone that I’m imagining here is the Pussycat Dolls’ version of ‘Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps’ ;).
> 
>  
> 
> Also, find me on tumblr! ^^ (I go there by floraone, as well. If you wanna chat, or have a look at all the Sailor Moon content that I post that inspires my writing, or wanna send me lofty hilarious headcanons that might make their way into my stories ;) )
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think, please! I’m meddling with a lot of stuff here, and it helps me immensely to hear what you think, and your interpretations of it!
> 
>  
> 
> Especially, because obviously, this story works a bit differently than Ikigai did – the pacing is different due to there being no monster of the week in my kind of story, here (I’ll elaborate on why this is sometime later in a note, but right now it’s just because I like serial storytelling better than procedural, so…). So, this is a bit of new territory I’m taking here, and it would help me to hear if you think it’s working for you??


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, guys!! I have an important test coming up, so the next update might take a week, but… this one’s extra long, so, maybe that’s compensation, haha!
> 
>  
> 
> My always-thanks to UglyGreenJacket, for always taking the time to go over this for me, first, and having my back!
> 
>  
> 
> And thank you guys for your reviews – I’ve got the most stressful month of the year coming up for me, so you really do keep me going!!

L

 

August 3rd. A day Mamoru had, for all the parts of this life that he remembered, associated with grief.

 

It had, up until last year, always been a day he’d either spent alone, or, when he was still a kid, in the presence of social workers that made it very obvious they were trying too hard.

 

He’d had a routine for that day: visit his parents’ graves. There he would stand, silently, because he really didn’t know what to say or do there.

 

He didn’t remember these people that died on this day, his birthday, when he was a child. He hadn’t even been to their funeral – it had been held while he was still in the hospital. He was not grieving these people, he was grieving a missing childhood, a hole where there should have been family.

 

So, he’d stand there, uselessly, until he went home and let the day pass. Maybe with a good book, or some kind of treat, to mark the day in some way, at least, but always on his own.  

 

But last year… last year he hadn’t spent it alone…

 

And this year he didn’t either.

 

Usagi, of all people, had insisted they get up super early for the graveyard, before school, when he hadn’t budged about the matter of going on that very day at all, and couldn’t he just go the day after?

 

But he’d felt it was the only respect he could pay these people who were his parents and who he didn’t even remember: to visit them on the only day of the year that he did associate with them.

 

So, she had shrugged, and insisted she’d come with him then, and that they should get it over with first thing in the morning, because she didn’t want to have him moping around for most of the evening and that she had plans for him that didn’t involve graveyards and bad moods.

 

He’d rolled his eyes, saying she really didn’t have to come, or do anything special for him at all, but loved her for it.

 

 And although he knew it about her, of course, this endless wisdom when it came to people and their emotions that she had, as it had, in fact, been what drew him to her in the first place – both first places – it amazed him every time anew.

 

She, unlike him, _wasn’t_ an empath. But still… she might as well be. The way she instinctively knew what the people around her needed, and him especially, even when the feelings he knew she felt coming off of him were so conflicted.

 

So this time, when he stood there, not knowing what to do, she was there with him.  The graveyard , as most Japanese graveyards were, was a tiny slip of space up a tiny hill next to a small temple that was densely packed with long, tall, engraved single obelisk stones in black and grey, all lined up close, next to each other atop the deceased’ ashes.

 

Almost as if they were huddling together so they wouldn’t feel so lonely. And, standing with his hand clutched in hers, even closer than he usually would, he could completely relate.

 

One monument for both his parents. The stone read, simply, ‘Chiba’ – on its sides it was flanked by small, attached, empty, stone vases. A spot for incense and candles was in front of it.

 

Every year he had trouble finding it among all of these, because it held no real meaning to him, and every time this very fact made him feel the deepest sort of guilt. Of having let them down; their only child, he couldn’t even remember where their grave was.

 

He stood there, glaring at the symbols that formed his family name, and she gripped his hand a little tighter.

 

“I wonder,” she asked, “who all these people were?”

 

He looked at her. He knew of course that this included his parents, her question, but the way she’d asked it had included all of them, sweeping her hand over their view of lined up obelisks – like a little skyline, they extended up the hill in different heights and styles.

 

“I don’t know,” he said, quietly. “Who do you think they were?”

 

She pressed her lips together in thought, and then pointed towards a tall light grey stone with charcoal black engravings whose flower holders were overflowing with pink and purple dahlias. Takeshi, read the stone- “This one was a girl who loved to dance and laugh. She was creative and bubbly and she liked to draw flowers, which is why all her loved ones bring them to her all the time.”

 

He chuckled at her, and shook his head. “And how would you know that?”

 

She shrugged. “I just do,” she said, rolling her eyes at him, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

 

“Aha,” he said, tonelessly, raising an amused eyebrow. “And this one?” He pointed at a large, black, partially entombed stone, with gold linings, wealthy and dangerous-looking, far in the back.

 

“The Yakuza,” she shot out, immediately, as if it should have been obvious.

 

At this, he had to laugh loudly. “All of the Japanese mafia, all in that one grave, yes?”

 

She rolled her eyes up at him, playfully. “Not all of the Yakuza, obviously. Just a few of them. But they probably regretted all their crimes in the end, I’m sure.” She nodded decisively, and he had to chuckle once more.

 

She pointed out grave after grave then, ones marked by simple wooden sticks, others with big proud stones, and imagined stories and lives for each of them. Each more fantastical than the last one. Of star-crossed lovers and little ladies who missed their grandchildren, of unfortunate boys that died too young, illegal car races and the ebola virus, mostly to amuse him, and to, he knew, acquaint him with every single last one of them, those people here that he didn’t know. In the end, she called them all by their family names and an added, affectionate –chan, gave them a life, even if imagined, that she told with warmth in eyes and voice.  

 

His throat constricted. He might never have loved her more.

 

“And these, here?” he asked, his voice cracking, as he nodded toward the grave right in front of them, the one that displayed his name.

 

She smiled, and drew her thumb across their clasped hands as she spoke. “These,” she started, “these were a wife and her husband, who loved to read to their son and take him to see garden shows and silly foreign movies that he loved.”

 

He swallowed, feeling his eyes prickle.

 

“She gave the softest hugs and was really good at math, and he liked to read and give snarky comments. She loved classical music, and he loved kabuki theatre, and together they’d take their son to both of those and to lots of museums, so he’d become a _giant_ geek.”

 

He laughed, his voice gurgling a bit around all the emotion that he felt in that moment.

 

“And they loved their son very much,” she said, but this time she whispered it up to him. “So much that they are probably very glad that he has forgotten them, so he doesn’t have to feel the pain of their loss so much.”

 

He hadn’t even noticed that he had started crying. Not until she leaned up, with that warm, open smile of hers, to wipe his tears away.

 

Her hands were still on his cheeks when he crushed her to him in a hug that was perhaps entirely too tight, and lifted her off her feet when he buried his face in the crook of her neck, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead she wound her arms around his neck and shoulders and hugged him back as tightly.

 

He spent a while, just breathing into her neck, before he set her back down on her feet and turned towards his parents’ grave. He kneeled in front, traced the name with his fingers, and conjured up two roses that he then placed in each of the vases.

 

He nodded, stood up, and turned to her with a half smile, nodding his head towards the exit.

 

As they turned to go she stopped, and looked up at him with somewhat of an apologetic smile.

 

“Um,” she began, stopping him in his walk with a tug at their once again clasped hands, “can Takeshi-chan get one, too? She likes flowers so much…”

 

She nodded towards the grave that had started it all. The one already filled with flowers, of the girl that liked to dance and laugh and draw flowers.

 

He chuckled and shrugged and made another rose and handed it to her to give away. And then Usagi got sad for Umeda-chan, next to Takeshi-chan, who didn’t have any flowers at all, and by the end of it, Mamoru had made a rose for each and every grave in this small, little graveyard.

 

Roses for all of them. For the grumpy old teacher and the Yakuza, for the boy who got stuck in the freezer too long and the star-crossed lovers… and for his parents. 

 

When they left – a bit too late for Mamoru’s taste, they had to make a run for it, so Usagi wouldn’t be too late for her first class –  it was the first time he was sure he wouldn’t have any trouble finding his parents’ grave anymore.

 

They weren’t strangers anymore. None of them were. His parents lay nestled in between Ikeda-chan, who liked it when stray cats slept on his grave, and Matsumoto-chan, who loved the smell of people eating. Next time he would know exactly where to go.

 

It was one of these very rare days, where he was tempted to just screw all responsibility, take her hand and make a run for it. No school, no university, no training and obligations, just carry her away and to bed and close the curtains and stay there forever.

 

Dropping her off at school was, today, maybe the hardest task he ever faced.

 

But somehow he’d managed, and then gone through his day sort of on autopilot for the rest of his academic schedule. It was a surprising emotion, really. He enjoyed learning. He enjoyed university. Yet, today, he was counting the seconds for it to be over, to get back to her, to have more of this day.

 

This day he, before last year, had always wanted to erase out of his calendar.

 

His mind kept going back to last year. It had started out as the most horrible birthday he had ever had, and ended up with his heart so full of her, beating out of his chest. He’d been so nervous, so … _so_ in love. Her lips on his cheek, her hand in his, both for the first time, this day last year.

 

So, when Usagi stood outside of Keio, at a time she should still have been at training, with a sheepish smile and two cupcakes in her hand, he rushed into her arms, causing her to nearly drop the cupcakes – the very same as last year, he saw.

 

She chuckled in his arms, holding her arms out in an awkward angle as to not cover him in frosting. 

 

“I’d kinda hoped we’d go there together, again?” He mumbled into the crown of her head and felt her smile against him.

 

“Oh we can, I need to pick up more of them on the way back. They just were almost sold out of yours, so I thought…” she said, shaking one cupcake-holding hand on his back. He assumed it was the one she’d bought for him.

 

“Mhm,” he made, and let go of her slightly, only to cup her face in his hands.

 

She threw him a slightly amused and confused look.

 

“Is it totally weird that I’m…” he started, and stopped, searching for a word. Something that didn’t sound all too cheesy as all the ones going through his head; I missed you, you’re my everything, don’t ever leave me, I need you, I love you. He rolled his eyes at himself, shrugging, and tried again.

 

“I don’t know why,” he said, scrunching one eye shut in apology as he stroked both his thumbs across her cheeks, “but I feel as giddy and nervous and in love today as last year.”

 

Her eyes were warm as they grinned at him in that entirely smug smile, and fluttered closed as he leaned down to kiss her.

 

He loved this last moment, before their lips touched. When her eyes were already closed, but he was still looking at her… At her mouth that fell open, at her breath hitting his lips, and the way she puckered hers ever so slightly.

 

She got up on her tiptoes and effectively closed the gap between them. And then her lips moved softly against his. She stumbled a bit, as she still held those cupcakes and thus couldn’t steady herself against his shoulders, so he wound his arms around her waist, to pull her to him a bit tighter, all the while deepening the kiss – their tongues beginning a well-practiced dance.

 

There would never be anything to him that tasted more like home than her kiss did.

 

They were making a show, he knew. He could hear some of his acquaintances call him out on it, he thought he recognized Kobayashi’s voice among them. And some people around them were tutting, but, right now, he couldn’t care less.

 

Call it her bad influence, maybe. He’d stopped caring about such things after a while with her by his side.

 

Harvard really could stick it up their asses, he thought. No way was he going anywhere she wasn’t. Ever.

 

It was her who ended the kiss, and it felt a bit like changed roles, when she sunk back on her feet and withdrew, and his head followed suit, sinking further down to not break the contact for just that second more. Usually it was the other way around, she stepping up onto the furthest of her tiptoes, craning her neck as he withdrew, but today… Today, he just couldn’t get enough of her.

 

“Happy anniversary,” she smiled, playfully, and his mouth quirked up in a full-blown smirk, as he winked down at her.

 

She held his cupcake out for him and he took it from her, as they started walking. Mocha chocolate caramel for him, lemon blueberry for her. Hers was, of course, gone and gobbled up by the time he’d gotten rid of his wrapper, with a deep and throaty moan from his girlfriend that he only ever heard in two situations; in the bedroom, and when she was eating. So, really, he heard it quite a lot, but it always made him chuckle.

 

He looked down at his yet uneaten cupcake, and, acting on a whim, he dipped his finger in his icing, turned toward her and smeared it on her nose.

 

“Hey!” she protested.

 

He smirked at her. “Well, some traditions are important.”

 

She frowned at him in question until he bent down, still smirking in a way he was sure must have looked quite silly, and put his mouth to her nose. She scrunched it up in that cute way of hers, as he licked the cream right off her face. She giggled even as she exclaimed a loud “ _Ewww_ , Mamo-chaaan.”

 

He kissed her nose, again, just for good measure, and withdrew, chuckling.

 

She frowned. And for all the mock annoyance she had just showed a second ago, she seemed quite annoyed now that he was done already. And so, with pursed lips, she grabbed his wrist, and brought his hand – cupcake included – to her face.

 

With just this her whole nose, and a bit of her forehead, were smothered in caramel frosting, and he had to laugh when she announced, “You’re not done yet.”

 

With a deep, throaty chuckle he swung her back to him, his hand sneaking around her waist, turning her into his side, and brought his face down low, his lips _almost_ back to touching her face.

 

“Is that so?” he asked, eyes dancing.

 

“Mhm,” she said, smirking right back.

 

So there they stood, halfway on their way back to her house, standing in a rather residential area where he licked food off of his giggling girlfriend. He could hear a child, nearby, asking what these weird people were doing, and a woman clearing her throat, fumbling for an answer. And yeah, he was quite glad as well that no one they knew was here to see this. Even he wouldn’t have been able to disagree with Rei’s most probable assessment of this situation.

 

They _were_ quite disgusting, sometimes.

 

All in all, it took them almost twice as much time to get back to Juuban-Dori, where Usagi, as announced, picked up a bunch of cupcakes at “their” cupcake place, the sweet lady – Yanno-san, he knew her, too, by now – wishing him a happy birthday as they entered. Usagi flinched at this, looking at him apologetically, and he just rolled his eyes, amused, thanking Yanno-san as he fought with her over the big box of cake (she insisted he didn’t get to carry his own birthday cupcakes).

 

“So, obviously we’re going home first?” he asked, as they turned into her street.

 

“Yup,” she said, skipping a bit, and stumbling. His hands shot out to steady the cupcake box but she had it, and shot him a glare. “We need to pick some stuff up first.”

 

He nodded, and looked at her sideways. “So, am I getting clues about this surprise?”

 

She giggled. “Well, you could ask, you know?”

 

He frowned. “Haven’t I?”

 

“Nope,” she shook her head, “you haven’t. Not at all.”

 

“Well,” he started. They were approaching her house now, and he fumbled for his key.  “What is this surprise, then?”

 

She beamed from ear to ear. “Well, if you _must_ know,” she said, as if he had begged her for the information, and he couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes, “after dinner I had actually thought to take you to a cat café…”

 

His eyes lit up on this, he couldn’t even help it, but he bit his lip. She noticed anyway, of course, and snickered, as he went up to the door, and turned the key.

 

“……but then I thought you might like karaoke better. We’re meeting Mina-P at 9,” she finished.

 

His eyes widened, and he looked back at her, horrified, just as he opened the door.

 

“ _SURPRIIIISE!_ ” came a chorus from inside, and he stumbled back a few paces, taken aback.

 

Inside, the Tsukinos were waiting. Kenji, Ikuko, Shingo. And, additionally, Makoto and Motoki. They’d hung banners all across the living room, and a giant cake that was decorated with marzipan roses and the number 20 all over, which had Makoto’s baking style written all over it, stood in the middle of the dining table. The smell of Ikuko’s Katsudon – what she knew to be his favorite (it was, after all, the first meal he’d ever eaten of hers, and it had stuck) – hung all over the house.

 

Makoto cuffed him in the side, then gave him a big hug, and he still couldn’t talk for a little while, because he really was not prepared for how one reacted when people came to celebrate his life.

 

To the side, the living room coffee table had been moved a bit closer to the kitchen. It was stacked with small parcels in colorful wrapping paper.

 

“Mine’s upstairs,” Usagi whispered, apologetically, as he spotted them. “You’ll get it later.”

 

Ikuko shooed them to the table, and Motoki seemed quite smitten with her, which earned him a kick from Mamoru. No messing with his mother-in-law, to which Motoki just raised an eyebrow, meaning, ‘ _Really_?’, and Makoto had to guffaw.

 

All in all, they spent maybe the best dinner together that Mamoru had ever had.

 

He felt incredibly moved. Had someone asked him this morning if he’d like a party in his name he’d have felt embarrassed and answered a resounding ‘ _No_ ’, but this…

 

He guessed he didn’t know what he’d been missing.

 

Especially Kenji was making a big deal out of it. He was showering Mamoru with tales of his own coming of age, which, yes, he guessed it was, this being his 20th birthday after all.

 

He hadn’t even realized it. Having lived alone for so many years, coming of age wasn’t something he actually had ever aspired to, in fact, _this_ , being allowed to take part in the life of a family, was much more what he ever wanted than officially being responsible enough on paper to be without one… but with Kenji’s stories and attention it suddenly became something worth celebrating.

 

Kenji insisted on getting out the ‘good stuff’, now that the ‘boy is of age’, and placed three kinds of aged looking bottles of Sake on the table with loud thumping noises. Usagi, Makoto, and Motoki (who was a few months younger than him) all got a single fill, and even Shingo was allowed a few sips of what Kenji deemed ‘the good stuff’, but Mamoru’s sake cup was pretty much on instant refill. Kenji insisted.

 

By the time they got to unwrapping presents, Mamoru’s vision was spinning. He suddenly loved everyone _so much_ , had started hugging a very unsuspecting Motoki every three minutes, Karaoke suddenly didn’t sound like such an awful thing anymore, and both Kenji and Makoto just stood there, to the side, enjoying the show maybe a bit too much.

 

And when, on Usagi’s insistence, they recreated last year’s birthday photo – just with not only her in the crook of his arm and her lips to his cheek, this time, but with all of them on the picture, too, cheering, and she showed it to him – edited in the same sparkly font, reading Happy 20th Birthday, Mamo-chan – he kind of lost it, and started hugging and cuddling the shit out of all of them – his family.

 

Shingo was the only one complaining, really, but even he endured it, amused, and held his phone up filming the whole spectacle that was Mamoru’s drunken self. For later blackmail, he was sure, but right now, Mamoru just thought it was kind of funny. _Everything_ was funny.

 

Especially once he and Kenji, who’d _probably_ drunk too much of that stuff as well, had started singing at one point, though he really couldn’t tell what it was, or how the hell he’d known the lyrics. He _did_ remember, though, how Makoto and Usagi stood to the side, egging them on, switching between falling apart in giggles and heads shaking ever so slowly, joining Shingo in the filming of things.

 

He didn’t have to grieve for the lack of a family anymore. He had one, now. And they were all here, celebrating with him.

 

He barely remembered how it all ended. Or how he got upstairs, later on. Just that Usagi had had some trouble with it.

 

The only thing he did remember from much later that night was that the taste of her skin felt so much more intoxicating when he was, in fact, intoxicated, and so did her kisses and her desire as it looped back to him as he drank straight from her…

 

He woke up, a few hours later.

 

It was still dark outside, but the birds and crickets had started up their morning orchestra already, and his head was completely clear.

 

Courtesy of his healing abilities. He’d never suffer a hangover in his life.

 

Usagi lay flung out all over the bed. On her back, her naked legs thrown over his, one arm hanging off the side of the bed, breasts rising and falling with every deep breath she took, hair everywhere.

 

It was the most glorious sight in the world.

 

He shifted to his side and propped his head up, but in doing so he moved her legs, accidently, stirring her.

 

She blinked her eyes open, disoriented, and he flinched.

 

“Shhh,” he hushed, “Go back to sleep.”

 

It was only then that he saw something red in the corner of his eye and looked up.

 

In the corner of her room stood a small bookcase, with a big, giant, silly bow around it. He blinked a few times before he disentangled himself from her carefully and got up.

 

It was narrow, fitted exactly into the corner of her room, next to her door, only as wide as a hardcover book. In it was only one book; her edition of Endymion.

 

 She was awake now, he could feel her behind him on the bed, blushing.

 

“… I thought…so you don’t have to move all these books around all the time…” she started, whispering into the darkness. He could pretty much feel her wringing her hands. “It’s DIY! I built it with Papa during your last late Monday study group sessions and we hid it in Shingo’s room…”

 

“It’s perfect,” he interrupted her, breathing heavily.

 

He walked back to the bed, crawling on top of her. “You’re perfect,” he said, brushing a curl away from her tiredly smiling face that clung to her in the heat.

 

She gave him a family, and a home. Everything he’d ever wanted.

 

He prayed to a power he was pretty sure didn’t exist that he’d never lose any of it.

 

L

 

This was … hard.

 

Everybody was aware of it, of course. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have been discussing it all through the evening and night, now the early morning.

 

Ami sighed, gripping her coffee cup a little tighter – black, to keep her awake, provided by an equally tired and defeated looking Michiru.

 

“We know she’ll hate us for this, Ami-san,” Michiru said evenly, but not without emotion, “but there are just some decisions we need to make for her. Some decisions where there is no good outcome, whatever we decide. This is one of them.”

 

“Better she hates us than she _dies_. Again.” Minako whispered.

 

Minako had been in tears for most of the night. Her voice sounded blotchy to Ami’s ears. She really couldn’t blame her for all that emotion, either… Minako, out of all of them, had witnessed Serenity die. It was a trauma she carried with her, a guilt that ate away at her, even as she saw Usagi cheering and whooping her way through this new life.

 

Ami ground her teeth. Of course she understood their arguments… but this, this was a whole _planet._ And they were looking _away_ , because they were afraid Chaos might either come back for them if they did, or their princess would insist on helping.

 

“What about hating ourselves, then?” Ami said, “How can we see this and just let it happen?”

 

“You’re a Senshi, Ami-san,” Michiru answered, her calm, gentle eyes like steel, “Your personal guilt is unimportant. We need to stand above that to protect her.”

 

“We’re witnessing a genocide. Kinmoku is doomed if we don’t step in. And you think we should do _nothing_?” Ami murmured, low.

 

Haruka’s answering shout was loud, making everyone around the spacious, quiet kitchen table jump. “ _WHAT do you expect we DO, then?!”_

 

Michiru lay one of her graceful hands on top of Haruka’s, who then calmed down visibly, shaking her head and continuing on in a quieter voice. “I think…” Haruka started back up, “I think you are very well aware of the fact that we cannot defeat Chaos. We couldn’t then, and we can’t know. If we go, it would just be suicide. We’re not _letting_ it happen. It’s _happening_. And there is _nothing_ in our power we would be able to do. You know it. And you _also know_ , if we tell her, she would insist. She would go.”

 

Minako nodded in agreement, if embarrassedly. She knew, of course, as well, that they were being cowards. Ducking, running.

 

“Then _we_ go. Without telling her. We have a responsibility,” Ami said, into her cup, but to all of them.

 

“ _Your_ responsibility lies first with your princess, _Sailor Mercury_ ,” Haruka said, heatedly. “Not with different worlds.”

 

This was why Minako and Ami had decided to go to Haruka and Michiru with this in the first place. The Outer Senshi were responsible for dealing with threats from outside of the solar system. It was protocol for her to go to them with this information. First to her own leader, Venus, then to them. This was, quite literally, _their_ decision. She knew this, she understood this… but she couldn’t _accept_ it in her heart.

 

What if there had been other Senshi, back when the Silver Millennium fell, across the galaxy, who had had the same conversation thousands of years ago. Made the decision that their society was doomed to die, and that stepping in would just endanger themselves but do no good? She couldn’t accept this.

 

And yes. Yes, _of course_ , she could follow their arguments. Haruka and Michiru were right, they _had_ their own threat of an apocalypse to deal with. They all knew better than to not take Rei’s premonitions seriously. And Haruka had been quite passionate about her point, that they weren’t training their princess to keep their own world from being destroyed only to sacrifice her saving a different one. Of course they needed her here, and alive. And endangering Usagi was the _last thing_ Ami wanted…

 

Ami loved Usagi. She was, without a doubt, the most precious person in the world to her. The first person to have ever called her –chan, the first person who had ever treated her like more than a brain. The first person who had not been intimidated by her intellect, at first, and who had treated her, directly, like she would treat anyone else, and like a long lost sister. Someone who loved her for who she was, someone who made her come out of her shell. More than her responsibility to Serenity, she _loved_ Usagi.

 

And she understood, too, obviously, that being so far removed from their planets, were they to travel to Kinmoku, would mean they would be less powerful, and considerably so. A Senshi’s power source was their connection to their planet. The further away, the lesser the connection, and the weaker the Senshi. They hadn’t been able to defeat Chaos right here, with all of them, power source immediate. And yes, some of them were stronger now, with their Super Transformations, but…. It was only them. Just a handful of Senshi. No army behind Jupiter now, no planetary priestesses and Starlights. They’d had all of that back then and they hadn’t stood a chance against Queen Metallia. How would they ever hope to defeat Chaos, then, now, just them, in a different star system, so far removed from home?

 

“We should be thankful we’re out of the spotlight, for the miracle that Chaos doesn’t seem to know some part of this solar system has survived.” Haruka’s voice sounded tired, so tired. Her shoulders hung, elbows propped up on the table as the first light of day fell into the room, way up high in this tall skyscraper.

 

“Sadly, as you know, we are no strangers to sacrifice others for the greater good,” Michiru sad quietly, and Ami’s blood started to boil at the mention immediately. Hotaru. They meant killing Hotaru. Were they bringing _this_ up, again?

 

Ami’s voice became tense, and clipped, as it always was when she was mad. “The ‘greater good’, yes…” she murmured, sarcastically. She knew all the arguments, but… to her this felt more like being too afraid to step up to do what’s right.

 

They were afraid. Terrified, all over again. Chaos was winning right here in this room.

 

It was Minako who picked up on Ami’s thoughts. She was always way more intuitive than anyone gave her credit for, after all.

 

“Yes, it may be chicken. It’s cowardice. But we can’t…” Minako started, raising her shoulders. Her eyes were dry now, decision made. “Usagi _would_ go, you know this.”

 

Ami sighed. Yes. Usagi would want to save them. Usagi would do the right thing, and it was exactly why Ami loved her. She knew it was also why they could never tell her.

 

“I’m not letting this happen again,” Minako’s eyes had hardened, her voice strong, “this time… I will sacrifice _any_ world, even this one, to keep Usagi safe.”

 

Haruka rose, and walked towards her kitchen window front. The rising morning sun illuminated her in a golden glow, as she spoke. “We agree on it, then.”

 

Michiru and Minako turned their eyes to Ami, expectant. She was the last to agree.

 

This was their world, Ami supposed. And maybe Haruka and Michiru were right. Maybe sometimes you had to waltz over your principles to protect the ones you love?... Even when it didn’t sound right at all.

 

But Ami nodded, wringing her hands, the pit in her stomach doomed to stay.

 

“Yes,” Ami said in a small voice. “We agree.”

 

She would observe, but not step in. And they wouldn’t tell Usagi any of it, or the others. This information would stay in this room.  

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So... What interests me most in storytelling is painting lots of shades of grey: I’m not into black and white stories. There are no good or bad guys here. There are just people, and conflicts. Some minor and some giant. Like holding a grudge against your friend's boyfriend for something you didn't approve of, not for ill will, but because you love her. 
> 
> Or, if we go bigger, like nations that decide against stepping in when they witness a humanitarian crisis because it might jeopardize the wellbeing of their own nation.
> 
> These are all situations that can’t have an inherent right or wrong, no valence, just decisions and opinions and sides, which are and always will be debatable. Amos Oz once said, a traitor is always a hero when viewed from the other perspective. And it’s the kind of story I’m going for. People are complex, and so are conflicts, and sometimes – or most times – there just are no right decisions or a right way to act, just the one you decide for, hopefully for valuable reasons.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> As always, your feedback KEEPS ME WRITING THIS, so I’m grateful for each and every review – hearing what you think, your rants, your hopes about it, what you loved, everything – keeps me tethered to this story and helps me make it as realistic as I can.
> 
> Also, I just love to hear from you, lol, so tell me what you thought!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: THANK YOU GUYS for your thoughts on the last one, and a thank you to UglyGreenJacket, my super friend, who takes care of Yugen so I don't sound too german <3
> 
> Here we go!

L

 

Today, Mamoru, for once, went straight home. Usagi had texted him she didn’t need to be picked up today – as Haruka and Michiru had cancelled on her she could go home straight after school. So, after his driving lesson and picking up another book for Ami from his university library on the way, he made his way straight back, instead.

 

He could already hear all the ruckus inside before he even entered. Shingo and Usagi were arguing over something or other in the living room, loudly, and the kitchen smelled delicious. Upon entering, he found Makoto in the latter, with Ikuko, making something he swore could be served in a 5-star restaurant by the smell of it, and Usagi and Shingo were sitting on the living room floor, both with gamepads in their hands, shoving each other out of the way and yelling at the screen.

 

“This smells like someone should let you write a cookbook, Mako-chan,” he said as a way of greeting, deciding on the kitchen first, putting Ami’s book on the counter. Where was Ami, anyway?

 

Makoto jumped slightly, obviously not having noticed him come in. This happened a lot, actually. In this always noisy house he just didn’t stand out, silent as he was, usually. “You need a bell on you, seriously,” she said just as Ikuko gushed back, “Doesn’t it??!” and went up to give Mamoru a small hug, which he returned.

 

Ikuko, obviously, was just standing to the side and enjoying the show, while Makoto did everything.

 

“Mako-chan is trying her hand at French cuisine,” Ikuko said excitedly, as if this were the greatest news of the year.

 

“French-Japanese Fusion, actually,” Makoto shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “A savory chestnut and pomme soufflé with an omelette base. And Mille Feuille with beef and Yuba.”

 

Mamoru simply blinked at her wide-eyed, and while Ikuko giggled excitedly, Makoto blushed slightly and rolled her eyes, hip-checking him half out the kitchen, while he raised up his arms in a ‘I didn’t say anything, did I?’ kind of way.

 

Instead he grabbed Ami’s book back up, attempting to make his way into Usagi’s and Shingo’s current warzone, as he spoke, “Where’s Ami?”

 

“Downstairs,” Makoto replied, while flipping strips of beef in her pan with just a flick of her wrist. “But she acted a little weird, today. Barely said anything. Said she’s stressed out when we asked. Usagi was concerned and kept going down, but I think that made things worse, to be honest.”

 

Mamoru frowned. “Any ideas on why?”

 

Makoto shook her head, and sprinkled the beef strips with a sauce that Mamoru couldn’t name but smelled tempting enough to want to dip your tongue right into the hot pan. “Honestly? No idea. But Mina was acting weird at school as well. Maybe they had a fight?”

 

Mamoru scrunched his eyebrows together. He really could not picture anything anyone could ever do to get into a fight with _Ami_ ; that wonderful, kind, genius of a person. Not even Minako.

 

“Well, maybe I’ll have better luck, then,” and he waved Ami’s book in front of him, while Makoto just nodded him out of the kitchen, as Ikuko washed up the big serving platters – the good ones. Those she only ever got out for either special occasions or heavenly Makoto food.

 

He passed by his clearly occupied girlfriend on the way down, and leaned his head down way into her personal space, but she didn’t even look up. She was hacking away at her gamepad, cursing loudly at Shingo and he sighed. “Well, do I get a kiss hello?”

 

She didn’t answer, didn’t look away from the screen, just puckered her lips and made kissing sounds, meaning – he knew this by now – to come get it, and he sighed and rolled his eyes, chuckling, but leaned in anyway for a quick, innocent peck, while she angled her head in a way that she could still watch the screen around the kiss.

 

“So, why are you here so early?” he dared ask anyway.

 

She looked up at him, straightening, and Mamoru got a look at the shirt she was wearing. He immediately had to chuckle, as Usagi wore a big oversized white T- shirt that had ‘YOLO’ printed on it in big bold black letters. He had to snort, because… well…very ironic when written on his reincarnated wife. She raised her eyebrows at him, amused, and glanced back at the screen, but clearly it had been all the distraction Shingo had needed.

 

 _‘YOSHIMITSU WINS’_ , the tacky bold writing announced on the screen, accompanied by a weirdly exaggerated bass male voice over.

 

Usagi dropped the gamepad, and died. She cursed at the screen, and he flinched, mumbling a ‘ _sorry_ …’, while Shingo threw up his gangly teenage sticks of arms up into the air and started a series of loud croaks that were obviously supposed to be cheers – poor kid was smack in the middle of his pubertal vocal change, and Usagi was caught in the middle of groaning loudly while simultaneously starting to giggle over the strange noises her brother was making, so it came out as a snort that was equally disturbing.

 

“Yo, man,” Shingo said, while jabbing his elbow into Usagi’s side who was still giggling about his voice. It was obviously meant as a thank you toward him, and Mamoru raised his eyebrow. At least the days of ‘Bro’ were over, obviously. Though, mostly because Usagi had kept making fun of him whenever he’d said the word, giving him crap about it until he went up into his room, glowering and crimson.

 

“They just canceled. It was weird. _Everybody’s weird today_ ,” Usagi said in a pouty voice, and he had to blink a bit, remembering that yes, he had asked her a question.

 

“Round three?” Shingo shot in, and Usagi just nodded her head absentmindedly, but grabbed Mamoru’s arm, and pulled him down on the floor next to her – he didn’t sit and snuggle, like she obviously wanted, just knelt, and Usagi pouted. Mamoru shook Ami’s book at her in answer, though careful not to say anything with Shingo sitting right next to them.

 

“That doesn’t seem like them,” Mamoru said, instead, frowning.

 

“ _No, it doesn’t_!” Usagi answered, “They’re all strange today, but tomorrow’s supposedly back to normal schedule.”

 

“You should ask them about it,” he said, and propped up one arm on his leg to get back up, but not before Usagi grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him down for another kiss – a proper one this time, and Shingo croaked about it loudly, complaining why they had to _scar him for life all the bloody time_.

 

Ikuko called out from the kitchen to Shingo to be thankful of good romantic role models all around him, which made Shingo throw up his arms even more, and it was Mamoru’s queue to go.

 

He slipped out the backdoor, hearing last snippets from the conversation inside and Shingo’s breaking voice asking Usagi “why she did so much martial arts anyway, she’s the biggest klutz on the planet,” and Usagi fumbling for an answer.

 

Mamoru leafed absentmindedly through Ami’s book as he walked down the stairway in the dimensional pocket that was the Senshi command central. _‘Asteroseismology and Exoplanets: Recent Observations and Advances in Planetary Information Technology’_. He’d been reading a bit in it on the way back from Keio, and damn, It was an interesting read. It was fresh from the press, and Ami had preordered it several days ago. Mamoru usually picked up her orders, it was common sense to do so when he was there every day anyway, and Ami would need to make a trip out of her way for it, ever since she had started placing orders at his university library instead of Infinity. Ami had been careful to not leave any Senshi traces behind at Infinity these days.

 

Though he did wonder why Ami bothered to use a library at all; with her abundance in wealth Ami was the last person in the world who he thought would be opposed to buying the books directly and simply having them delivered to her doorstep, but, that was Ami, he figured. Humble and down-to-earth.

 

He found her, as always, sitting at the control panel, typing away and giving orders to Athena, but swiveled around in her chair, when she saw him enter, quickly removing output from the screen and pulling different ones up.

 

“Here,” he started, warily, holding out the book towards her sitting form, “It’s fascinating. I sneaked a peek.”

 

Ami’s eyes widened when she saw the title. “Uh… I… I’d forgotten I ordered that,” she snapped the book out of his hands and put it away with a blush on her face, as if he’d caught her ordering hentai.

 

Mamoru frowned, and dared his senses to reach out to Ami. Besides her obvious nervousness, that he’d felt even from upstairs, her adrenaline had spiked, her breath was coming shorter.

 

“Ami… is there something you want to talk about, maybe?”

 

She swallowed, and he could feel her pulse accelerating even more, but then she shook her head slowly.

 

He leaned his hip against the control board where she sat, and bore eyes into her that he tried to convey comfort and calm with. “You can, you know?” he said in a quiet, steady voice.

 

She grabbed at the strands of her shoulder-length hair, and pressed her lips together. He could feel waves of waves of sadness in her, and frustration, but her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head, again. “No… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

 

He nodded. He wasn’t going to press the issue, he just wanted her to know she could. He trusted her. If it was something they should know then she would tell them. “Well… if you change your mind?” he started, wanting to reassure her, but she interrupted him, nodding sharply.

 

“You’ll be the first to know. But it’s not my mind to change.”

He furrowed his brow. “Ok…” and then straightened back up into a standing position.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

 

Her pulse calmed down, and the tension in her muscles loosened. “I think so,” she answered, voice less agitated, and he nodded.

 

“Well, will you come up for dinner then, later?” Mamoru asked, and immediately, to his confusion, the tension flew right back into Ami’s shoulders.

 

“Um, I think I’ll stay down here, tonight. I have tons of work to do, still,” she said, and he frowned. She’d set up all of Tomoe’s surveillance and the reading for all additional catastrophe warnings days ago… she shouldn’t be so tightly packed.

 

He nodded, “Are you sure?”

 

Ami’s answering nod was miniscule, and sad, but it was there.

 

Mamoru sighed, running a hand through his hair, but then stood up, trying to convey nonchalance for Ami’s sake. “I’ll bring you down a plate,” he said, shaking his head at Ami’s attempt at a protest, instead she just mumbled a small ‘thanks’.

 

He turned to go, but then stopped, a little ways away. “Should I send Usagi back down, to say goodnight?”

 

“No!” She yelped, and then shrunk back, blushing, hand flying to cover her mouth.

 

He blinked.

 

Ami started babbling, fast. Her hands were basically clawed into her hair. “No… No. Tell her I said goodnight. I’m… buried to my neck in work.”

 

“Right,“ he said, slowly, blinking at her.

 

He turned to go, then stopped, blinking, and turned back around to her, again.

 

He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment as he looked at her – she was almost cowering on her swiveling chair. “… Ami, if she did something, I _promise_ you it was by accident, she wouldn’t ever…”

 

“NO!” Ami exclaimed, her expression horrified for a second.

 

She inhaled deeply, obviously trying to calm herself, and bit her lip.

 

He didn’t think she was going to say anything anymore, when her voice finally did started to whisper, again.

 

“No… it’s not her… it’s just. I can’t lie to her. Not to her face,” she said, looking at him steadily, willing him to understand but not to question, he thought. “It’s too hard.”

 

He cocked his head to the side, peering into her.

 

Ami’s eyes hardened a bit. “I love her,” she said, as if it explained everything. And he understood. Whatever it was, it was for her sake. She would never go against Usagi’s sake.

 

“I know,” he said, warmly.

 

He nodded, and turned around again to go, then shook his head and stopped. He felt a bit ridiculous, this dance he was inadvertently doing, half between leaving and staying, but he turned around to Ami once more.

 

“Ami?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“If, it’s … if she’s in danger, will you tell _me_?”

 

Ami swallowed, and seemed to will her gaze not to waver from his imploring one.

 

“She’s not if we don’t tell her,” she said, at last.

 

He didn’t fail to notice that she hadn’t really answered his question. But… he could live with that answer, at least.

 

This time he did finally manage to walk back up the steps, lost in thought. Ami had used ‘we’ not ‘I’, so, from today’s events, he could safely assume that this might be the reason for Haruka’s and Michiru’s sudden out-of-character-cancellation. But he wondered if what Rei seemed to not say these days was the same thing, as well…

 

Usagi’s face had fallen, after dinner, when he’d kept her from bounding downstairs to Ami, and instead she’d trudged up rather sullenly while he did the dishes with Ikuko, after they’d all bid Makoto goodnight.

 

When he came up, Usagi was lounging on the bed, clad in the shirt he’d worn the day before. She had already sat up her laptop by her knees, today’s choice of anime prepared, her hand buried in Luna’s fur who was slumbering in her lap.

 

The moment he slipped through the door, her eyes were on him, expectant. She’d been dying to talk to him all through dinner, and had had trouble keeping her mouth shut, or dragging him outside to demand answers, he knew.

 

“So?” she asked, as he lifted the simple black T-shirt he’d been wearing over his head, and tossed it over her school uniform that lay draped over the chair of her vanity.

 

He sighed. “I don’t know what’s up, either. She didn’t say.”

 

She frowned at him. “But… “ she began, hand stilling on Luna’s deeply breathing form, but then stopped, and resumed her stroking. He understood though, and he felt the same.

 

“Well… I don’t know if _you’d_ call it talking, but we did.” He said, tone serious, mulling it over. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I trust her to talk to us if we had to know,” he said, as he stood on one foot, peeling way too skinny black jeans off his form.

 

Usagi nodded decisively. “You’re right. I trust her, too. If it's important, she'll tell us.”

 

He stood for a moment, and looked at her. The lights were off except for a small lamp on her vanity, illuminating her in a yellow light that made her hair shine even more golden than it usually was. They way she sat, in his shirt, hands moving gracefully along Luna’s fur as she purred in her sleep…

 

He got in next to her, and pulled her up tightly against his side, pressing a kiss to her temple, and closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the clean smell of her shampoo.

 

He exhaled slowly. “Whatever it is, it's to keep you safe. I'm pretty sure.”

 

She frowned, and pushed off of him a tiny bit to look him in the eye. “Haven’t we, like, covered the fact a few weeks ago that we’re insignificant? On the big scale of things?”

 

He frowned at her.

 

“Keeping me safe isn’t the most important, you know… What about like... the world?! The people! The thing we dream to protect, together?” she sighed, exasperatedly. “I don't matter that much, Mamo-chan... lives do.”

 

He tucked her back against his side and nestled his chin among her hair. “Well those lives do need you alive to champion for them.”

 

He’d meant it as a joke, trying for a flippant tone, but it came out somehow… off.

 

“Is this the whole messiah talk again?”

 

He rolled his eyes. He knew better than _that_. “No.”

 

Luna’s purring in Usagi’s lap was rhythmic and deep, lulling in a way, as Usagi pushed her hand through her fur, again and again.

 

Mamoru stroked the side of her arm, pushing the too loose fabric up and down on her skin in much the same rhythm. It was a little while before he spoke again.

 

“Well…you're very significant to very many people, Usako. Including me, obviously.”

 

Her hands stilled, and he felt her emotions curl and coil.

 

“More important than the world?”

 

It was funny really… Most lovers, he felt, wanted to hear they were. She, he knew, was desperately praying he’d deny it.

 

“I can’t say no, exactly, when I already willingly risked one civilization just to be with you, much less to keep you safe, now, can I?”

 

She closed her eyes, briefly, and turned her head into his chest. “Would you make the same decision again?”

 

He was silent for a while. They were not Endymion and Serenity. They both knew this. They weren’t forced to make the same decisions, not at all, and yet… It was insane. He knew it had been the wrong decision. Yes. But… He wished he could say no.

 

He did, desperately, want to protect this world with her. Help her. He would, in a second, willingly give his life for that matter… but not hers.

 

“I probably would,” he whispered into her hair.

 

She sighed.

 

“Well,” he said, tone lighter, trying to brighten the mood. “We all know Minako is right about me on that point. I’m a reckless arse when it comes to you.”

 

He felt Usagi’s brows furrow against his chest. Not what he’d been going for.

 

She turned her head up towards him again, studying his expression. “Do you want me to talk to her about that, again?”

 

Mamoru blinked, a bit perplexed.

 

“I don’t blame her, you know?” he said, sincerely. “At all. I would absolutely feel the same. She is right. I was reckless. I didn't ... no, I _did_ think of the consequences, but I took the risk.”

 

Usagi shook her head, vehemently. “ _We_ were reckless. _We_ took the risk.”

 

He shrugged. “Same thing.”

Usagi grumbled, but went back to stroking Luna.

 

“It's ok. I don't mind. We are civil to each other, and I don't _have_ to like her and vice versa.”

 

Usagi huffed. “You’re more alike on that matter than you think. Which is ironic. If given the choice, she’d be the last person to put the world before me, too... I know she wouldn’t do it.”

 

Another adorable grumble escaped Usagi’s lips, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

Leave it to his wife to be upset that both her husband _and_ eternal guard would rather drop dead first than have harm get to her.

 

He knew he had to learn this, though… It was one thing seeing her fight, so much stronger than him, when he was confident she would overpower them all… but… those dreams? He did believe in her. He _knew_ , in his heart, she was the promised messiah, the one from his dream.

 

… But it was still terrifying. He had, after all, lost her once before.

 

Not to mention how close he’d come to losing her again in the battle against Kaguya.

 

His grip on her became a little tighter. He shuddered first, and then chuckled, somewhat humorlessly and self-consciously. “What’s _really_ ironic… There you are, most powerful being on this planet, perfectly capable of defending yourself… and we’re all regularly going insane over the urge to protect you…”

 

But, in his defense… She _did_ dive headfirst into danger. It was terrifying. She _was_ always so quick to sacrifice her well being for others… so, yeah…

 

She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.

 

“I wish you didn’t feel like that… We protect each other. All of us. And I protect all of you. And this planet. I promise.”

 

He nodded. And, there really was no one he believed more in than her. She would protect them all. But it would and will always put her on the front. And if there’s one thing he dedicated his life to than to always make sure he’d be right behind her, watching her back.

 

He sighed, dropping the subject, adamant to direct it somewhere else.

 

“Well... tonight we’re not protecting anything,” he said, and sat up a little straighter, and reached towards Usagi’s lap. “Except maybe Luna… from having to endure watching ice-skating half naked idiots again.” He drew his thumb across Luna’s little kitten ear, and it twitched as if in answer, and Luna stirred a bit in her sleep.

 

Usagi huffed in a ‘how dare you!’ kind of way. “Luna has it good, here! Besides, I’m suspecting that she’s secretly very fond of Yuurio.”

 

“Mhm,” he deadpanned, “I’m sure.”

 

Usagi glared at him in answer. Something that would never fail to relentlessly tickle his cute glands. “Well, also, she’s safe from constant cameras, here.”

 

He snorted. Right. He forgot how adamant Minako was these days to make Artemis into an internet meme… and how entirely willing that cat was about it. That had started about the time Luna had stopped complaining about all of his and Usako’s ‘nightly physical activities’ as she used to call it – apparently walking in on him and Usagi was somehow less disturbing to her than walking in on Artemis and Minako doing their thing. He shook his head. Those two truly did deserve each other.

 

Usagi lifted Luna up by her little paws in one single movement, and held her in front of her chest. The cat blinked awake, startled, as Usagi disguised her voice into some high-pitched croak, that was supposed to mimic Luna, but couldn’t have been farer off.

 

“I looooove watching Anime with Usagi. Nooooothing better in the world.”

 

Mamoru raised an eyebrow, and slipped his hands between Usagi’s, effectively cradling Luna and taking her out of Usagi’s grip on her. Changing his own voice into a much better impersonation of Luna’s voice, he said, “Is what Usagi likes to believe, but, really, I enjoy listening to Mamo-chan read fantastic literature much better.”

 

Usagi giggled. “Did you just call _yourself_ ‘Mamo-chan’, Mamo-chan?”

 

Usagi’s giggle turned into a full blown laughing fit when his ears turned red and he huffed an indignant. “ _Nooo_. _Luna_ did. I was impersonating _Luna_.”

 

Luna looked at them both, still cradled awkwardly in Mamoru’s arms, her paw raised by his hand, and shook her head slowly.

 

“You remember I’m a talking cat, right? And that I’m right here in the room with you observing this very cheesy moment?”

 

L

 

“Did you go through your training session notes, finally? The new routine Makoto suggested? For the adjusted power levels?”

 

Minako growled. Artemis was just doing his job, she knew, but he’d been pestering her for almost half an hour now, reminding her of her responsibilities… and her shortcomings.

 

“Of course I have,” she bit back.

 

“Did you? You didn’t make any suggestions where Makoto asked for input…” he said, craning his neck up, as he hurried in a fast pace after Minako’s long strides.

 

Minako balled her hand to a fist.

 

How could she make suggestions, when she had no idea what those new powers entailed? She, unlike the others, hadn’t gotten her Super Transformation, yet.

 

She was supposed to be the leader, but now… now she was the weakest. She had no idea why they were even still listening to her, when they were training.

 

She shot Artemis a glare, and simply walked on a little faster, causing Artemis to have to run beside her.

 

It was petty, she knew, making him run to keep up with her… but she was just... So. Damn. Frustrated.

 

“Is this about your secret?” Artemis asked, in a small voice.

 

She stopped short, and looked at her cat, frightened. They were standing in the middle of Juuban, half between school and the Hikawa shrine, where they were headed to. A training session she would once again spend acting the strong , confident, leader that she wasn’t…

 

Paint on the care-free façade she kept up even stronger whenever things started boiling in her heart.

 

Did he know? Was he going to look down on her, now, like he should? Because she was a coward… because she wouldn’t face Chaos. A weak coward…

 

Not much of a leader.

 

“Luna said Ami had a secret. From what the others said, I assumed it was a shared one… “ he answered her questioning gaze. “You’ve been acting strange, Mina.”

 

Minako’s gaze hardened. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and strode on, jaw clenching.

 

She didn’t bother denying it, of course. She couldn’t lie to Artemis.

 

But it was the only thing she could do… keeping this secret. She couldn’t keep Usagi safe any other way.

 

She’d never been able to keep her safe, in any lifetime. As much as she’d tried, she had still failed.

 

If it hadn’t been for how _he_ treated the whole situation, it never would have come to that. The Silver Millennium might have survived. But… if she’d been stronger, or at least stronger in voicing her concerns … that they should keep it a secret longer, that there was _power_ in love – good _and_ destructive – an emotion that could cause jealousy-driven hate, and blind despair, especially in a people so susceptive to it, when treated poorly…. Jealousy that could destroy both worlds if allowed to stew… if they’d just _waited_ until things had calmed down, been smarter about it…she might have been able to prevent it.

 

But she didn’t, and she’d watched her princess die.

 

Minako’s insides felt as if they burned anytime she allowed the memory to come. She usually could keep the memory away, both of her death and the events around it, but… now that Chaos was a threat again? She couldn’t keep the image out of her mind. It had kept her awake for days now.

 

Serenity, lying dead in her own blood that dripped from Endymion’s sword, sprawled across his unmoving body.

 

Over his dead body, he’d said. Over his dead body would he let harm get to her, or let them separate them.

 

He’d been right with both, ironically.

 

The images came, driving bile up her throat that she swallowed around the lump that had lodged itself in the same place.

 

She was useless. Weak. Usagi didn’t need her. Sailor Moon was strong, a warrior, much stronger than all of them. If Kaguya proved anything, it was that Usagi kept _them_ safe – not the other way around. And even if Usagi weren’t so powerful – she had enough people around her to keep her safe. ..

 

Lots of shiny new Super Sailor Senshi.

 

And _him._

 

But this… she wasn’t strong enough to keep Usagi safe, physically. But this she could do – she could keep the danger away from her. It was cowardice, as chicken as Minako never had wanted to be.

 

But it was safe.

 

This was something she might not mess up, if she just kept her mouth shut.

 

She would never, ever live in a world again in which Usagi was killed by the forces of Chaos. She would never live in a world in which Serenity was killed, period. She’d vowed it to herself.

 

But… if she could just become _stronger_ … get that stupid, bloody Super Transformation…

 

Maybe… maybe then she wouldn’t feel this urge to run from it all.

 

She slowed down a bit, feeling bad for making Artemis run so much, and shot him an apologetic look.

 

He smiled back at her, understanding. He was used to her antics, anyway.

 

Damn, she loved her cat.

 

“Is this about your Super Transformation, then?” he asked, and Minako’s dark scowl was back, immediately.

 

She took that back. The little bugger was a pain in her ass.

 

“You mean because I’m such a useless nuisance anymore?” she said, tone sarcastic and mirthless.

 

Artemis frowned at her.

 

“You’re not useless, Mina…”

 

She shrugged, hurt, and stopped at a vending machine stuck in the corner. Sweets.

 

When frustrated: chocolate. It was simple, base logic.

 

She shoved her hand into her school bag, fishing for a coin, and pushed it with a little too much vigor into the little slot.

 

A sinful, luscious, meiji black chocolate bar. Just what she needed…

 

But then it got stuck.

 

Minako groaned, and gave the machine a slap. Nothing. Then she pushed the change back button, repeatedly. Nothing.

 

Minako gave the machine a frustrated kick. It was one of the old ones, with the spiral mechanism that pushed the bars out when moving. She could see her bar hanging there, unmoving.

 

She growled and gave the machine one useless shake. It barely rattled.

 

“Violence is never the go-to solution, Mina. You of all people should know that,” Artemis drawled, with the cheek to sound amused even, and Minako was ready to strangle him, when she had an idea.

 

Artemis!

 

Her head whipped down to him, zeroing in on her tiny cat, a mischievous glint in her eye.

 

Artemis immediately cringed, apprehensively, ducking slightly. Getting in the middle of Minako's wrath was never a good idea.

 

She pushed open the metal flap of the offending machine. "Get in there."

 

“What?!” he yelped, a little too loudly, and a passerby turned around, confused, looking to see where the male voice had come from while no other man was anywhere in sight.

 

“Well!” Mina hissed, “You're tiny!”

 

“So?”

 

“Get in there, and get me my bar! The machine ate my money!”

 

After a few useless rounds of back and forth, Artemis did as his charge told him and slipped into the innards of the vending machine.

 

He had the bar in a matter of seconds, and, what he did next, Mina supposed, was probably to put a smile on her face, while he was already in there, anyway. Through the glass screen she could see him gnaw a few other snacks out of their metal confinements one after the other, which she all grabbed gleefully with a chuckle, sticking her hand into the metal flap.

 

“No speech on moral high ground, _now_?” she giggled, and Artemis just shrugged his white kitten shoulders, freeing yet more chocolate from captivity.

 

Just that, later, when Artemis attempted to get out again, they noticed that said metal flap couldn't be opened from the inside.

 

And every time Mina pushed at it from outside, he was simply thrust upward, just sitting uselessly on the metal flap. No way for him to get underneath and out…

 

 _Damn_.

 

L

 

Rei pushed the red phone button angrily on her phone, grumbling.

 

“So?” Makoto asked, “Where are they?”

 

“Running late,” Rei said, and Makoto shot her a ‘Duh’ kind of look, while Ami just continued reading, barely paying attention.

 

At both Rei’s and Luna’s expectant look, Rei shrugged her shoulders and complied.

 

“Apparently Artemis got stuck in a vending machine? Now, they gotta wait for the fire brigade to arrive.”

 

Makoto started snorting, while Luna started spitting fire. “Oh, that _bloody_ idiot!”

 

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, July is still gonna be a hell load of work for me, so updates still will come slower, but still steady. Promise!
> 
> Reviews give me happies! And seriously, they help me keep focus of this story during my month of stress. Pleaaase, tell me what you think?


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… big GIANT screeching halt here, but from this chapter on, this fic is M rated.
> 
> Like, as M- rated as I’ve ever written.  
> Just so you’re warned.
> 
> Also, thank you guys so much for your reviews. This is the busiest month of the year for me, and they literally keep me going – you wouldn’t have ANY chapters this month if it weren’t for your reviews!
> 
> Another thing that keeps me going: my sweet friend UglyGreenJacket. Thank you, love, for taking all that time for me and Yugen!

L

 

 

Usagi, next to him, was almost in tears from frustration.

 

It was all back to business, and Mamoru had picked her up after her training just like he did most days of the week. Just that, while she tended to always be frustrated after these sessions, it had never been as bad as this.

 

It was like watching someone who had been coerced to learn an instrument wanting to _at least_ learn to play some songs out of it, but being forced to do finger exercise for months, instead, without being allowed to practice a single genuine tune along the way.

 

She was just so worked up, so frustrated. It made her voice quiver and her hands tremble and he felt it all on her, this anger that this was going _nowhere_.

 

“They made me stand on one foot for like _two hours_ , Mamo-chan… How am I even… I’m not _learning_ anything, we’re not _fighting_ …”

 

They were walking along a pedestrian road, on their way to the nearest metro station, past conbinis and little shops, and izakayas that were slowly starting to open up at this hour in the afternoon. She sighed, deeply, her hands kneading itself into the fabric of her loose tank top, knuckles turning white, and he wrapped his arm around her slumped shoulder.

 

‘You need to learn to stand before we can let you run’, they’d said to her in the very beginning. And he saw the reasoning in that, but… this was maybe getting out of hand?

 

“I know it’s been like this for _weeks_ , but… today was so much _stranger_. They were so… _angry_ , as if I’m not meeting their expectations for something they’re just not _telling_ me. They want me to become stronger, but we’re not _doing_ anything. I just don’t _get_ it.”

 

Her voice had gotten smaller, frustrated, and he exhaled slowly. He could feel all her frustration; all that pent up energy. As if all the weeks of frustration about her training were bubbling to the surface now, on top of the confusion about how some of her Senshi had been acting the past few days.

 

He understood it of course; that conflict between wanting to at least learn something, as you gave up all your free time. Just wanting to improve already or at least get some time to herself instead… And he was lying himself, if he said _he_ wasn’t worried about what was going on with the Senshi… but this was keeping up her tension, her concentration, and she didn’t have an outlet.

 

She was doubting herself. Wondering why they didn’t trust her to train in combat already. It showed through every fibre of her.

 

He ran a hand through his hair and tucked her closer to his side, and she leaned her head against him, but the way her head hung limp worried him.

 

He really didn’t like seeing her this… sad, and worked up at the same time.

 

It wouldn’t do.

 

“Well,” he started, in a voice that tried to brighten the mood, “we have about three hours left until we need to be home for dinner…” he said and she looked up at him. “We could go for a sparring session, if you wanted…”

 

Her face lit up like it usually only did when he suggested ice-cream or milkshakes.

 

“I mean… you _are_ still in your workout clothes…”

 

She nodded happily and it took them only the slightest detour away from their path to her house to get to his instead – after all, they did live really close to each other, even when he’d, somewhere along the line, stopped calling his apartment his home – that term now referred to her home, the Tsukino household.

 

Once they entered his apartment she chucked his sweatpants and T-Shirt at him, and ran a glass of water, all the while ranting about the lacking of her training, and they were off. He’d barely had the time to throw the skinny jeans he’d worn and his dress shirt over the side of the couch, stripping in the middle of the living room and changing into his workout clothes, while she’d already pushed all the sparse furniture in the room to the walls on her own by the time he’d knotted the strings of his sweatpants.

 

He chuckled deeply at the gleam in her eyes when she jumped from foot to foot, anticipating his first move.

 

“I don’t remember when you were _ever_ so eager to train, Usa,” he said slyly, with a crooked eyebrow, and she shrugged.

 

“You would too if you’d been made to do yoga for five weeks. And like the slow, boring yoga not the –”

 

She was distracted in her rant, so he took the opportunity to catch her by surprise, and feigned a tackle from the side, when really he had brought his arms around to catch her arm. He turned it behind her in an unnatural angle, just as Makoto had shown them to months ago. It caused her to snap to the side in the position he needed her in, and with that he had her pinned to him, immobile, in a matter of seconds.

 

 _‘Ugh,’_ she grunted. “Unfair.”

 

He laughed. “Don’t get distracted. Mako-chan’s rule number one.” He winked at her, when he released her.

 

She rolled her eyes, and fell back into stance. This time, she wasn’t distracted, and had him lying on his back, huffing and puffing in a matter of minutes.

 

She was fierce, mesmerizing. The way she put all her slight weight into her movements, used all the surfaces in the room available, hopping from edges and walls to get at him expertly. He could feel all her pent up vexation in her movements, the adrenaline from the exercise, and the excitement about finally doing something she thought was actually training.

 

He was too hot, too soon, because this was still the middle of summer, and she was too damn good at this. So, he raised his T-Shirt over his head and threw it to the side, leaving him topless and sweaty. She mirrored his action, immediately, lifting that tank top she wore over her sports bra over her head and throwing it in the general direction his shirt had gone.

 

He smiled. He liked the sight, of course, obviously, and she smirked at him before coming at him at full speed.

 

The sparring was intense, he had to admit. More intense than they’d done in months – not that they did this often at the moment, what with her being trained by Haruka and Michiru all the time, now. And if they trained in combat, it was with the girls, in their command central, under Makoto’s and Artemis’ supervision.  They didn’t do this, just them, so often anymore, had in fact only done this once within the past three months, and even he admitted that he missed it.

 

There was just something about it. Her sweaty form pressing against him, the triumphant and deeply unintentional sexy smirks she’d throw his way whenever she overpowered him, whenever she’d got him on his back, mostly underneath her.

 

And yes, there was barely any time he liked that nude colored sports’ bra more than when she wore it cornering him.

 

As she did now; she’d managed to have him bend his leg in a way that made him fall to one knee, and, off balance, she’d managed to press him into the wall. They were both heaving, breathing hard, and he could feel both their heartbeats pumping fast, and he was acutely aware of two things; Her chest, pressed against his shoulder blades, and how extremely turned on his girlfriend seemed to be, the feeling crashing into him through their bond.

 

Still, she let go of him, even while letting her chest linger against his naked back for just a moment too long, with a little gasp that he knew wasn’t from the exercise, and fell into a new stance momentarily.

 

She was lithe, in top form. However she might think her training with Haruka and Michiru wasn’t doing anything, she was wrong. She was on point, balanced, fierce, and she didn’t even notice the improvement.

 

He made a mental note to point it out, soon, when he wasn’t having trouble catching his breath.

 

She beckoned him to come at her, the corner of her mouth tucking up in a way that made his own body very aware of the feelings currently cursing through hers, however she seemed to try and suppress them slightly, and he came at her.

 

He knew the angle she’d try to attack and blocked her off, but she was so quick on her feet she managed to dodge his retaliating move easily, and with a swipe of her leg, she had him pinned beneath her.

 

She laughed in triumph, pressing her legs against his sides on top of him, and her chest moved erratically up and down, along to her labored, heavy breathing. She rubbed herself against him, for just a tiny moment, and he could feel all that desire in her driving him crazy, stirring him, and by the twinkle in her eyes he knew, of course, that she noticed.

 

She bit it back though, and got up again, and he tried to shut it out, the intense urgency he felt in her, the way he knew her skin was currently aware of every touch and brush.

 

It was hard. Pretty damn hard.

 

And damn… it was carnal, yes, but anytime she was turned on, he swore he didn’t only feel it, he _smelled_ it on her. Like some beckoning pheromone lingering on her skin, and he knew – they’d talked about it all too often – that it was the same for her. So, it didn’t help matters of keeping concentrated when they were both sweating quite a lot in the heat and the exertion.

 

The whole room was filled with her scent, driving him crazy. And he knew if he’d ask, she’d say the same about his.

 

She dove at him again, but this time her movements were a little sloppy. She was distracted by trying to keep her desire in check, and so he had an easy way in, and in two perfectly executed movements, he had her pinned against the wall, with his hands around her wrist above her head.

 

He paused, smirking down at her, peering at her and her hooded eyes, her slightly open mouth, her lower lip slightly trembling as she breathed, puffy and fast.

 

And then, immediately, the way her body moved against his, her chest moving up and down, brushing against his sweaty naked torso, her breath coming short and puffy against his chest, was just too much. He released her momentarily, because she’d let go of her restraint on her desires, and the full force of it started to bombard his senses.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Usako,” he groaned, when she pushed at him. He fell back on his back, and she landed on him again, pushing herself against his very suddenly hardened front, which, she knew for a fact was because all her sudden desire had looped back to him. “What’s gotten–“

 

But she didn’t let him finish speaking. She let her body glide onto his and reached for the back of his neck, and her kiss was wet and deep and needy and clumsy and slightly sloppy because she was so exhausted, but she _needed_ him. 

 

His hands flew to her sides and around, kneading deeply into the flesh of her bottom with a strong, slow grip. He pushed his tongue beyond her lips, all her need rushing into him from their bond so damn quickly that he had to gasp into her mouth for the force of it, the desire it brought, shooting straight into his groin, hardening it even further.

 

She ground herself against the bulge in his pants instantly, as if out of reflex, whimpering into his mouth, and he had to press his eyes shut against the sudden rush of it all, while she pushed her hands off his naked chest to sit up on him. She pressed their groins together forcefully in the process, and they both had to moan at the contact, while she reached up to get rid of her sports bra.

 

He shot up towards her, stilling her hands, pulling her mouth back down on his with his hand at her neck this time, mumbling into it, "Leave it on."

 

His voice was hoarse, breathy, half a moan. "Please. I love that bra."

 

And she giggled at him, but her giggle turned into a shudder, because his hand slipped into the hemline of her yoga pants and under her panties and one finger slid between her slick folds, stroking ever so slowly bottom to top. She needed his touch so much she didn't _know_ what's gotten into her but it fired straight to him and she could feel this crazy feedback loop of theirs pushing them on so rabidly, so needy, and she nearly had to growl for what it did to her, seeing and feeling how he had to bite his lip so hard even when she ran her tongue along it with labored puffy breaths because she's feeding it all back to him.

 

She frantically pushed her pelvis into his hand at first, but then grabbed his arm a few moments later and drew his hand back out of her pants. She got up on her knees, clumsily, which were pressed around his sides, to have room to shove these damn unnecessary clothes off her, frantically, quickly, now, _please_ – but she fell to the side and over her pants on her stomach in the process because she hurried too much, swearing loudly and profanely which would have made him chuckle, if he’d been able to form any coherent thought, if her desire and urgency he felt coursing into him weren’t overpowering everything else.

 

Instead, in one swift single movement, he got up on his knees, as well, and simultaneously pushed his own pants down, barely past his thighs, and grabbed at her hips as she lay sprawled on the floor on her stomach, raising her bottom up in front of him.

 

She groaned a relieved ‘ _yesss_ ’, as he pushed into her from behind.

 

He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, and tried so damn much to let the thrusts stay slow and shallow, even though he _felt_ she wanted him to go harder, faster, deeper, as her mewls became more frustrated, and there's nothing he would have wanted to do for her more, but he _couldn't_ or else he'd explode, momentarily, because the _waves_ of need and so close and he _can't_ –

 

And then, she growled and got up, and he slipped out of her, noisily, with a whimper from his lips, and she whirled around and pushed him onto his back, and practically impaled herself on him so forcefully, he could only let out one long, prolonged, silent scream of ecstasy until she came, a few moments later. She came so damn crazy hard, shuddering on him, that there was simply no way, at all, from keeping his own orgasm away in answer.

 

So he, too, came on the spot through her emotions, crying out in high-pitched whimpers mirroring hers with eyes tightly shut against the storm, when he emptied himself into her. He felt every shudder and convulsion of her muscles mirrored in himself, as well – from the cramped curling of her toes to the rhythmic throbbing of her internal muscles that he himself didn't even have…

 

Fuck that was good.

 

Unusual, granted, but so, _so_ good, and he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and cradle her still heavily breathing and occasionally giggling form towards his chest, pretty much in gratitude. He let this feeling flow towards her freely - and as she let her head fall into the crook of his shoulder, she rolled her eyes, as he knew she would; because they had that conversation before: he's not supposed to say thank you after sex, as she was under the impression that this somehow made him feel he'd owe her for it, when really she liked it just the same as he did – if not more – and was, in fact, the one who usually initiated sex between them anyway, as demonstrated just now.

 

So, he didn't say thank you, anymore - just that not saying it didn't mean he didn't still feel it… and, well, ... he couldn't say he was guarding his feels around that subject either, because really... what's wrong with a thank you when this was just always so amazing?

 

She snorted, snuggling back against him, quite obviously well aware and content about the fact he was currently still sheathed inside of her. "Well... not our most romantic moment, I'd say," she said.

 

He shrugged, smiling, rubbing his cheek against her hair. "Depends how you define romance.” He laced one hand into one of her pigtails, letting his fingers trail through the silky strands as they fell against her sweaty back. “I like it when you're bold with me. It shows how much you trust me."

 

He felt her smile against the crook of his neck, her lips brushing against his jugular in the process, and felt himself stir in reaction again, still inside her, and had to blink at himself for it. But, yeah… her feelings were still rushing through him, like a drug, and though her desire had calmed down considerably, it was still there.

 

He gulped, his adam’s apple bopping against her in the process. "But – well, not that I’m complaining, but… where'd that come from …so, eh… overwhelmingly…”

 

Not that he was entirely surprised. Of the two of them, she was the more adventurous and sensuous one of them – in all regards, not just sex.

 

She shrugged, breathing in his musky, sweaty scent, deeply. "Dunno... you looked sexy, I was already puffy and sweaty... kinda came over me fast."

 

He chuckled. "Yeah, I noticed."

 

He inhaled, deeply, content, Usagi on top of him being raised slightly by his intake of air…

 

And then, his eyes widened, and he exhaled in one quick mortified gasp and was gripped in a sudden terror when he realized that, yes, he was still inside her, and yes, he had, in fact, just literally come inside of her – and the condom he kept in his pants at all times was just there – still in his jeans pocket, the one currently strewn over his couch, not the sweatpants that were right now in a crumbled, fallen down mess around his ankles.

 

He slipped out of her in a heartbeat, his sudden terror rushing into her, befuddling her.

 

" _Shit. Shitshitshit_ ," he cursed, grabbing at her shoulders, checking her over illogically, as if he could see anything different on her.

 

She blinked at him, questioning, the panic stirring her.

 

“ _Usako,_ ” he said, peering into her eyes, “when was your last period?”

 

She frowned at him, raising an eyebrow, confused, with the beginning of a shake of her head, and he shook his head in response, feeling into her. He didn’t need to ask, she’d had her period just a few days ago – she’d been cramping, and he’d stroked her stomach. And even if he _didn’t_ recall _that,_ he’d still know her cycle better than she did, being able to feel into her cyclic hormonal changes, after all, with his powers. He inhaled, feeling out and into her, and exhaled.

 

Not ovulating, yet, still… Could still happen.

 

“What are you –“ she started, perplexed, but he interrupted her.

 

“I forgot the condom. I’m _so_ sorry, I –“

 

 

L

 

 

_‘Well, then run if you can, you paranoid, weak, little human vermin.'_

 

There were days he didn’t even hear the voice in his head anymore. And there were days, like today, when he had to concentrate all his willpower not to break open his skull through the nearest window just to make it stop, for once, for just one minute.

 

Souichi Tomoe sighed. He had enough presence of mind not to answer Germatoid's voice in his head, of course... He was, after all, well aware of the cameras stationed just beside him. Clever technology of the kind he had never seen before in his life, but Germatoid had.

 

_‘Because your pitiful, nauseous, little species has no understanding of technology. Any youngling of Tau Ceti would have known it, you imbecile.’_

 

He sighed deeply, willing his own thoughts to be louder, to drown out the voice of the alien in his head. He was in control, there was no way Germatoid could get out – but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. Sometimes, it felt like everything that was him was being eradicated.

 

He envied Kaorinite, sometimes. And the Witches. They didn’t have the daily hassle of hearing the parasites in their brains. He was in control – yet they were fully possessed. And, of course, they were – he himself had made sure of it. His work was meticulous, so, of course, they weren't in control. Their minds weren’t as strong as his.  

 

_‘It is bizarrely absurd, the notion you proletarian little scum have of strength. There are ways to shush your weakness, little human. Just let me take control, you will be like them in a moment. Dormant. Gone.’_

 

He fought the urge to growl, and instead gripped the glass flasks a little harder. He felt it crack, and cut his skin.

 

He cursed, loudly.

 

_‘Humans. So weak. You only need pierce their skin and they will lose their life’s essence. Pitiful.’_

 

Says the walking, dead corpse in my mind, he thought.

 

He felt Germatoid lash out, hissing out obscenities into his mind. But obviously, there was nothing he could do, trapped as he was.

 

Germatoid, calling himself a Deathbuster. He might best be described as a Zombie, a walking corpse of an extinct alien raise, brainwashed. Doing the bidding of its own henchmen. The alien working to bring its predator to its refuge.

 

_‘Paranoid infidel! Pharaoh 90 purified the disbelieving. He will bring us a new world, once he terra-forms Earth, ridding it of its human plague.’_

 

The Deathbusters, all of them, were decaying, pyrolysed vessels of their destructor. Possessed by the very thing that killed their planet. Brainwashed marionettes, now out to destroy the next planet in the belief their killer gifted them a new one.

 

He hadn't had a name for it. But Mizuno had had one. The assiduously conscientious girl had been careless, in the very beginning. Working from her work servers. Reporting the findings of her clever, little quests into self awareness.

 

He’d watched her grow into a Senshi, work her powers out. She’d been negligent – with the arrogance of a genius, she had assumed everyone around her to be dumb, oblivious humans, making her careless in her actions.

 

The name she had had for the power residing in the alien in his body had been Chaos. Not that she knew it was in him, of course. She had found it in Hotaru’s genetic make-up, when testing her. The malicious dark matter that had tainted and poisoned the minds of their victims, before taking them over fully.

 

Chaos was in him, and in his daughter. Because he, himself, had put it there, in exchange for their lives.

 

_‘Not for your lives. Your life is meaningless. In exchange for your planet, simpleton.’_

 

He would do as Germatoid told, anyway... but not for the reasons Germatoid wanted him to.

 

He would wake Mistress 9, was working on his poor daughter day and night to do so.

 

He would bring Pharaoh 90 to Earth. For terra-forming, was what Germatoid claimed and fully believed, to give the Deathbusters a new home.

 

As if. How naïve of Germatoid. How blinded and hollowed out.

 

But yes… He would do it, anyway. He would bring Pharaoh 90 to Earth… Yet, not before he had wakened not only Mistress 9, but also the Senshi he knew by her DNA to slumber within Hotaru, as well.

 

He himself was powerful, extremely so, by having Germatoid within him – even if Germatoid liked to downplay that fact, together they were strong. Impossibly so.  And so would Mistress 9, even if Hotaru was weak.

 

But Chaos's infinite power mediated through Mistress 9 _combined_ with a Senshi's power... Hotaru would become the strongest force in the universe, if he managed to merge them like he himself was.

 

Chaos cannot be destroyed.

 

Except by his daughter, he was sure of it.

 

He would bring Pharaoh 90 to Earth, so Hotaru could kill it, once and for all.

 

The planet would die. Silence _will_ fall.

 

But this sacrifice might just bring peace to the rest of the universe, forever doomed to be plagued by Chaos, otherwise.

 

_‘Pharaoh 90 will kill your weak, little girl before she can lift one of her scrawny little artificial arms up at him.’_

 

"Shut up," he hissed back, no matter the cameras, just as a faint knock sounded at his door.

 

He glanced over at the clock of his computer screen. 5pm, to the dot. Punctual as ever. She had that from her mother.

 

"Come in," he said, simply, as Hotaru slipped through the door, silent-footed and ducking, and walked over to sit on the narrow practitioner’s table that stood propped up against the side of the room.

 

No greeting. But they didn't talk a lot, anyway, these days. Their once warm and tender relationship had decayed with the battle he fought against his mind, every day.

 

He got a fresh, clean syringe from a steel drawer beside his desk, uncapped the needle, and filled it with the clear fluid.

 

Simple, standard insulin, to spike up her weakened system, for anyone who was observing and testing...

 

... Just that the insulin was shelved above a surface made up entirely of the Taioron Crystal, affecting the entire batch.

 

He swiveled around in his chair, tapping the syringe on the side, repeatedly, to expel any remaining air in it, turning to his daughter.

 

Hotaru lay with her gaze to the ceiling, her shirt already slightly lifted to expose too pale skin, and he pierced it with the needle, quickly.

 

L

 

 

All things considered, she couldn’t be luckier with him. Even though he’d freaked out while she’d – strangely – been the calm and collected one, saying it’s ok, it’s still the middle of the day, they’ll go see her GYN right now, while he paced around the room almost in tears, it was still him who knew all this stuff, who knew exactly what to do. He was the one who knew you don’t just get these pills from the GYN, you had to go to a special clinic.

 

He’d been, like, _crazy_ informed – turns out that time a couple months ago, when they’d thought for a split second the condom had slipped when it hadn’t, had prompted him to research all this stuff, and so, now, he knew just exactly where to go and what to do – had the Shibuya and Ikebukuro clinics’ addresses saved on his phone and all, and two phone calls later they’d had an appointment in Ikebukuro in just half an hour. So, they’d rushed there, her _still_ in her workout clothes, and sat in a waiting room for 10 minutes with him wringing his hands and nearly pulling his hair out.  

 

After a tense talk with a stern looking doctor, where she’d gotten this all explained to her – Mamoru wasn’t allowed in the room – she’d taken one set of pills; one the morning after pill, the other one against possible nausea , right on site, plus instructions for another set to take in 12 hours.

 

Mamoru had set both their phone alarms for it, though she doubted he’d forget even without that, and she felt bad he felt so bad, after all, there were two to a tango, and she’d forgotten about the condom, as well, in the heat of all that need _she_ drove into him, in the first place. So, really, it was just as much her fault, and it wasn’t even like there was anything happening here. She wasn’t ovulating yet, and before she’d even get the chance to, this handy little pill was making her have another period now, so there was nothing that could happen.

 

And by the time they were back out of there and on their way back home, they weren’t even _that_ late for dinner, so all was fine.

 

It was fine, she was fine, but he was acting as if he’d crippled her.

 

She sighed.

 

Her life just seemed to consist of frustration, anymore.

 

They’d quietly talked pills and IUDs on the way to the metro (he was quite against both of them, he didn’t like the thought of copper _or_ hormones in her body just so he would be able to be ‘irresponsible and lazy about it’, as had been his words, and she’d rolled her eyes, pointing out he was neither of these things. But he just glared at her, seemingly under the impression that this situation they’d just been in proved his point, and she’s begun a long session of sighing at him.)

 

They’d stopped all conversation about it, as soon as they’d stepped into the crowded train car, of course, and Usagi was becoming entirely upset about the way Mamoru had set his jaw, and kept his body strictly at an arm’s length away from hers.

 

By the time they arrived back in Juuban, she was so livid, she was begging the universe that Professor Tomoe could just _please_ bewitch another microwave, _now,_ so she could kick something that actually deserved a kicking?

 

And Mamoru even had the cheek to relax under her anger, thinking, probably, that finally, she was actually mad at him, which, yes, she was, but not for forgetting that damn condom, but for being an arrogant, entitled dick about it afterwards, putting her in the innocent role and him into that which kept all responsibility and fault.

 

Like she was a child, like they weren’t in this together.

 

She stormed through their door, causing Luna to jump out of her path and scurry away, as if she were an approaching train with jammed breaks, and her parents to look up startled and worried, when she barged into the room and sat at the dinner table with a look on her face as if she wanted to murder something.

 

They’d turned to Mamoru, coming in slowly behind her for answers, and turned around and sighed, having obviously decided to mind their own business when he’d stubbornly kept that stupid, stubborn jaw set, as he had all the way here.

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So this first scene up there is pretty much the smuttiest smutty scene I’ve ever written, and I wrote it standing up in a crowded rush hour train on my phone, go figure… heh.
> 
> Ah well… just wanna say, consent is a thing, the most important thing, and well… they don’t openly talk about it here, because they have a straight line to the other’s emotions and would thus loud and clearly understand any yeses and even beginnings of a no, so I don’t address it here, but IT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT THING!!
> 
> Also, I wanted them to deal with some real-life shit, so I’ve spent a day googling contraception in Japan and was very surprised to learn that most Japanese women don’t use the pill! In fact, it’s only been legal in Japan since 1999 and they only prescribe very low hormonally dosed kinds even today, as they are much more aware of possible side effects and in general very cautious regarding orally taken medication and dosage. So… condoms it is, or otherwise IUDs. Who knew. (I didn’t.) 
> 
> And, just in general:  
> As I've mentioned before, I'm a psychologist, with an additional degree in sexual medicine.
> 
> Both are pretty much the roots of this chapter.
> 
> A) Depicting real, equal sexuality with both partners showing sexual agency, while allowing themselves to explore their desires in a mutually aware setting. And: real consequences that need to be dealt with responsibly, but if dealt with can bring a couple even closer. 
> 
> B) Tomoe is just too good an opportunity to depict schizophrenia to pass up. Here we have a man, possessed by an alien which itself is obsessed by chaos. How EXTREMELY interesting. I've always wondered about the voices in this guy's head, so... this is what you'll get from me.
> 
> (Also, now this makes so much more sense? While manga canon accuses him of inappropriate experiments (which works a lot better than anime canon), anime canon says he lost it all and had to start from scratch because of a giant accident not of his doing …? Well... science really doesn't work that way, so often? It's not like governments or executives where scapegoats are sought, blame is placed, and people are removed from their posts and stripped of their titles. If an accident like this, a FIRE, happens, he would go on researching, people would trust him to know the risks now better than anyone. EXCEPT... if he goes and tells people about the alien in his head. He would be diagnosed with schizophrenia, and all his work would be put under scrutiny, and he just might be expelled from the scientific world... which canon says happened, both of it: the alien possession and the expulsion. So why not put both of that together. I will, anyway.)
> 
> Going forth though, here is a quick and very, very oversimplified definition of schizophrenia:
> 
> It is a disease characterized most prominently by the alteration of the perception of reality. It has two sides: One is composed of depression-like symptoms, where the patient will become apathic, showing low and impulsive moods, withdrawing into himself – most likely caused by hypo-functioning dopamine paths in the prefrontal cortex. The other side is what we call productive symptoms, which are characterized by things like hallucinations (most often auditory - hearing voices), peculiar communicational patterns, or odd impulses – pretty similar to those shown of bipolar patients – and most likely caused by over-activity in the mesolimbic dopamine paths (though evidence here is still spotty, but I'm not gonna debate this here, now, nor start citing the literature. So, you'll just have to bear with me.)
> 
> What it is NOT, though, is multiple personality disorder. Those are two district things: hearing voices you are absolutely sure aren't your own and are coming from "outside", is NOT the same as suddenly becoming this other person, sometimes without your knowledge of this happening.
> 
> So. Tomoe is hearing Germatoid's voice. Just like Mistress 9 heard Hotaru's in canon. He's not switching to Germatoid...
> 
> (Though not to count the possibility out FULLY... but that wouldn't be a correct analogy to schizophrenia, then, anymore. Not that it'll be a perfect analogy, anyway... seeing as Tomoe IS possessed, and I won't forbid myself some artistic freedom, but... you get the idea.)
> 
> I’ll stop now. The length of my notes is getting out of hand xD
> 
> But… PLEASE! Let me know what you think!!


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a few days longer, posting, but – as I said – July is my month of hell and this week held two due thesis papers, three presentations that I held, a 9-5 weekend seminar, and very, very little sleep… so thanks to UglyGreenJacket who helped me fixing as that darling always does, you at least still get it in the right week ;)
> 
> Thank you guys, for your amazing reviews, and please let me know what you think, again – to get me back into the writing flow and to let me know how I’m doing^^

L

 

Usagi pushed the bell button and was immediately buzzed in.

 

She inhaled deeply. She needed to fix this. If her little stunt with Mamoru yesterday taught her anything, it was that these training sessions, as they now were, got her nowhere. Also, it had been the only rather safe territory for her and Mamoru to talk about last night – away from forgotten condom gate, which still stood between them. But well… she did know that this was hard for him, letting go of his carefully constructed scaffold of control that he had revolved his life around, until he’d met her. Or, that he’d be overprotective, and way too easy on the self blame… she knew this. Didn’t mean she had to go for it.

 

To be fairly honest, she had been pretty much relieved he hadn’t just bolted, yesterday. And she was pretty certain he’d only stayed to make 100% sure she didn’t oversleep her set alarm for the second set of pills, and because he wanted to be around in case there were side effects.

 

Yet, there had been a moment, back up in her room, where the silence had gotten so tense she’d been afraid he’d up and go to his apartment, anyway, giving her that old spiel that he wasn’t good for her… she’d so hoped they’d been long past that.

 

Turns out, they’d been buried concerns, not resolved ones. She sighed. She didn’t even see the big deal! Nothing had happened! Why did he –

 

But, wrong issue right now.  And it was probably good to get her mind away. This, here, was probably the easier issue to fix, too, in comparison, than to teach her orphaned boyfriend and self-blaming husband not to be an overbearing worry-warting ass-hat.

 

She’s prepared a speech, to address the issue here. Mamoru had helped her – relieved, as well, to be acting as if nothing had happened, it had seemed.

 

That, yes, she needed to be able to stand before she could learn to run, she got it, but she also needed something to learn something to aspire to.

 

She’d gotten on the elevator – it was so fancy it was downright silly, she’d actually laughed the first time she’d set food into the mirrored cab that looked more like a room sprung from a renaissance castle than something that was pulled by steel ropes, with its rose marble and gold mirror settings and a marbled floor so shiny and spotless she felt bad to stand on it.

 

The door had been left open for her – as it usually was, and she walked in and out of her shoes and padded into the enormous, yet minimalist apartment. She found Michiru as she exited the kitchen, the usual tray of simple sencha in her arms, smiling warmly at her. To calm her mind beforehand, she always claimed.

 

“Konnichiwa, Usagi-chan,” Michiru said in that graceful, melodic voice of hers, and when Usagi replied meekly, Michiru inclined her head toward her lush changing room, a questioning arch in her brows.

 

Usagi nodded, swallowing, and made for Michiru’s rooms. As long as she’d been around her now, Michiru still intimidated her a bit. The way she held her whole body with poise and grace and maturity – the way she herself should, but couldn’t. The way her hair lay perfectly, always, the way she oozed talent out of her little finger, while Usagi’s Odangos fizzed out in the humid late summer air, and all she was really talented in was letting outrageous amounts of food disappear into her little body.

 

She sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit as she changed from her school uniform into her workout clothes, lifting her sports bra over her head and tucking everything in safely.

 

She braced her shoulders and walked out. She was their monarch, at least in technicality, right? She had _some_ amount of authority in this, even if it _was_ a deal. Right?

 

“Listen,” Usagi began, as she stopped right at the entrance of the vast open spaced room that was Haruka’s training room.

 

Haruka looked up, immediately, and Usagi couldn’t fail to notice how tense and forced Haruka’s usually quick smile for her was. Was it something she’d done? Was she _that_ frustrating?

 

Michiru stood next to Haruka, pouring the tea into three little expensive looking dark ceramic cups, and Usagi walked up tentatively.

 

So far, so usual. Tea to ‘calm her’ and then yoga, or something, to further ‘calm her.’… It had gotten to the point that very few things left here angrier than all that calming.

 

Usagi stayed standing right in front of the little coffee table, above them, and swallowed, trying again.

 

“I’ve been thinking…” she started, but then groaned, and rubbed her face. Her speech had been so good! Where did it go, suddenly?!

 

“Yes, Koneko?” Haruka said, patiently.

 

“Sit down, Usagi-chan,” Michiru ordered softly. “You obviously have something to say to us.”

 

Usagi nodded and knelt, folding her hands in her lap.

 

“I… I wanted to talk to you about the yoga and the stretching…” she said, carefully, and was confused when Haruka exhaled loudly, as if relieved.

 

“ _That’s_ what you’re so tense about?” she said, incredulously, a little laugh escaping her.

 

Michiru shot her a look, steady, unreadable.

 

“Um,” Usagi shot her a glance. “What else should I be tense about?”

 

Michiru inhaled, strongly, and handed Usagi her cup.

 

“So, the yoga and the stretching?” Michiru supplied, motioning for her to continue.

 

Usagi nodded, quickly. “Um, yes,” and then bit her lip. “I was wondering if we can skip it, and get to the fighting.”

 

Haruka frowned, “Koneko, we talked about it, it’s no use showing you moves if—“

 

“No running before I can stand, yes, I get it, but..” Usagi interrupted, quickly. “But, I’m really not _that_ bad in combat. In fact, both Mina-P and Mako-chan say I’m pretty good, and I know my balance is rubbish, but—“

 

“Koneko—“ Haruka said, shooting Michiru a perplexed look.

 

“But I can hold myself in battle. I beat Mamo-chan almost every time. I’m really quick and—“

 

“Usagi-chan,” it was Michiru interrupting her this time, and somehow her quiet, graceful voice could stop her talking when Haruka’s loud, bold one hadn’t.

 

“Usagi-chan,” Michiru said again. “We’re not training you in combat, Usagi-chan. We’re training you in the fighting techniques of the Senshi.”

 

Usagi blinked, utterly confused. “Umm—“

 

They looked at each other, again, surprised, and then back at Usagi.

 

It was Michiru, again, who did the talking. “Usagi-chan, Ami-san _has_ told you about the roots of Senshi power, right?”

 

“Um,” Usagi looked between both of them, “Well, she said we are powered by our planets. And she mentioned something once, about historical echoes, and that people sometimes portray mythical muses as dancing, because of the Senshi, but I, um… wasn’t really listening?” she said, sheepishly, one eye closed and shoulders raised.

 

Haruka groaned and let out a half-laugh, which Usagi somehow found a little condescending, and glared at Haruka for it. It probably came out more of a huff – people rarely took her seriously when she was mad, Mamo-chan did that, too, laughing when she got mad sometimes because he found it adorable the way she looked, but it drove her up the wall – now, too, when Haruka answered her glare with the same amused tint to her eyes that Mamoru had all too often, as well.

 

Yes… there were a lot of things she didn’t know. But _she_ , unlike all the others, was new to this. She _hadn’t_ been a Senshi in their past lives.  

 

“Well, Koneko,” Haruka said, planting her palms on the coffee table. “What do you do when you transform and shout your attacks, hm?”

 

Usagi frowned. “Uh… I transform and shake my Spiral Heart Moon Rod?”

 

Haruka shook her head and looked at her, pointedly.

 

“Transform,” she ordered, and Usagi had to blink.

 

“Here?” she said, perplexed.

 

“Yes, here. Now,” Haruka answered, sitting back and leaning her back against the vast window front overlooking Tokyo.

 

Usagi furrowed her brows, but got up from her kneeling position and walked back quickly, into Michiru’s changing room, to detach her brooch from her school uniform – under shouts from Haruka from afar that she really should keep it on her person at all times.

 

When she got back she did her usual spiel – lifting it up into the air, shouting her words, and in a twirl of light and ribbons she was Sailor Moon.

 

“No,” Haruka said, shaking her head. “Go all the way.”

 

She blinked, but nodded. It felt a bit weird, exposed, doing this here for seemingly no reason at all – but surely they had a point. So, she extended her arms out, palms up, and briefly closed her eyes to will the energy between them that formed the Holy Grail. It took a moment, and she felt her crescent moon light up and shine to do so, but then it appeared, and opened, and in a flurry of translucent butterflies made out of bright, white energy, her fuku changed into that of Super Sailor Moon.

 

“So,” Haruka said, not batting one eyelash, “what did you do?”

 

Usagi gaped, totally confused, “I transformed…”

 

Haruka rolled her eyes, Michiru next to her just smiling, unchanged. “C’mon, Koneko, work with me, here.”

 

Usagi pressed her lips together, thinking. What did she do? She shouted the words, and energy surrounded her, until she was… Sailor Moon. But…

 

“Um,” Usagi began, frowning hard, “I move a certain way when I transform…”

 

“Yes!” Haruka said, back straightening. “Yes, thank you. You _move_. An instinctive succession of movements, always the same for that exact individual type of transformation or attack. You could call it a dance, if you will.”

 

Usagi blinked. Dance? Does this mean… did they want to train her in _dancing_ instead of fighting?!

 

Michiru took over, hands folded neatly in her lap, still kneeling. “The Senshi powers are activated by small dance routines, and words, they’re basically enchantments. Even the transformations: twirling, dancing. You’ve been doing it all on instinct, and this instinct needs to be honed – your power is limitless, but your imbalance keeps you back, Usagi-chan.” Michiru said, in her calm, slow voice.

 

Haruka cut in. “Senshi  powers and energy can be directed and amplified by the movement of the Senshi’s bodies. You can understand it as a sort of vessel – like how a voice becomes stronger and louder when one learns to use their body to form it. The magic lies in the _dance_.”

 

Michiru nodded, and continued. “That’s what Ami-san meant. It’s why the mythical muses are sometimes portrayed dancing. It’s a direct echo of seeing the Senshi dancing to expel unthinkable quantities of energy.”

 

Usagi shook her head, looking back and forth between the two, the clear, long fabric of her back bow shaking along. “Wait, what are you saying?”

 

“This might be difficult to understand,” Michiru inclined her head, “because you’ve been culturally made to understand power and fighting must equal combat and brute force. Stereotypically male, and very violent attributes. But…, Usagi-chan,” Michiru came up and walked towards her, and took her hands in her own.

 

Usagi jumped slightly – The contact was sudden, and Michiru’s hands were cold and soft as she lifted Usagi’s hands and directed them to move as Michiru willed them to.

 

“It is beneficial for you to be versatile, and know various combat techniques. But – for defense. Your offensive moves, on the other hand…” Michiru said, while cupping Usagi’s hands in hers. It felt strangely intimate, and Michiru’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Senshi power is inherently different from what humans are indoctrinated to believe is combat. Senshi attacks are graceful, refined, flowing, powerful, and utterly _female_. It’s why people today dance, and associate dance with femininity … it’s another echo of remembering the Senshi, of seeing them in their grace, protecting, chanting, dancing their attacks.”

 

Michiru moved Usagi’s hands upward, curled them like a ballerina, and then moved her own hands to Usagi’s hips, turning them slightly, moving them along into a graceful stance, and pushing at them slightly, causing Usagi to bend one knee, before she continued. “There are two ways to control all Senshi power – but you can’t choose the way you do it, it is a given. Either through the mind – like Ami and Setsuna do, and we suspect Hotaru to be doing it as well – as conscious thoughts and calculative operations. Or, like Haruka and me, as well as Makoto and Minako, and yes, you… from the heart, riding waves of feelings. But both versions are channeled through the body, and enhanced by willpower, by the magic of the performed movements.”

 

Usagi, inhaled, both due to the all the information, and the feeling of Michiru’s small, soft, graceful hands on her hips.

 

“Koneko,” Haruka said, voice low and strong, from her casual perch by the windows, “We’re _not_ training you in combat. We are training you in your _magic_.”

 

Michiru let go of her, and the way she had modeled Usagi’s body, she realized – with one leg kneeling, her hips thrust forward and hands and shoulders angled up – resembled the posture Mamoru always described of the messiah in his dreams.

 

Usagi dropped her hands when she realized that, startled.

 

Haruka continued, “Why do you think Serenity had such a profound training schedule in dance, in ice-skating, in gymnastics…” she said, and Usagi frowned.  

 

“She was never meant to be a Senshi, but she was always meant to perform her magic, to wield the power of the silver crystal,” Haruka said, gaze strong. “All your training is still there, buried, and yes, you are extremely unbalanced, clumsy, but… your body knows the movements. Call it muscle memory, but once you perform your attack, you do the movements, you all do, unconsciously, you all perform the magic of the Senshi. The _dance_.”

 

Usagi rubbed her hands across her face, and let go of her transformation. In a flash of light and ribbon she was back in her workout clothes, but no less confused. If it were her attacks they were refining, why didn’t they work on those? They just said – she did them, on instinct. Why did they need work?

 

But Haruka wasn’t done with her speech.

 

“The power doesn’t come from anywhere, Koneko. It comes from you, inside of you, from your core. The body is your vessel to enhance it, to filter it, channel it, bring it out.” She balled her hand to a fist, and raised it up, squaring her shoulders, like Uranus would during her attack.  “When I do my World Shaking, I perform this one precise movement for just this one exact individual attack, the exact move that is needed to channel this exact attack in the way that collects and expels all the energy in the most efficient way possible. I do it so well, the power literally pools inside of my hands, before I expel it to my enemy . Every attack has its own move and incantation - it can be fast, it can be slow, it can be just a quick flick of the hand – it is individual for any Senshi and any attack, but executing this _one_ movement _perfectly_ and your attack will be strongest. Put all your willpower into it then, and you will be unstoppable.”

 

“But –“ Michiru cut in, “ _we_ are limited. We have certain attacks, that we can hope to master fully... but you…” Michiru took her hands again, this time just holding them, palms up, in hers between them, tenderly. “You, Usagi-chan, are a crystal holder. Because of the silver crystal, _your_ body can do far more than just generate a preset number of attacks with your movements – those movements for your attacks need to be perfected, yes, they aren’t, yet – you can be stronger, much, much stronger – but your magic…” she trailed off, and Haruka continued. It held its own sort of magic, the way the held one conversation together, complimenting each other, taking over and letting go. It’s own sort of dance, Usagi thought.

 

“When we get you to find the magic in your movements, get you to be precise, intuitive of what your body can do, can get you to listen to it…” Haruka said, her words holding a reverence, passion, and _hope_ , so much hope… “You, Koneko, can do anything.”

 

Usagi swallowed, and looked down at her hands, lifted up between her body and Michiru’s.

 

She felt a lump in her throat, made up of fear and expectations.

 

“You must have noticed it, right?” Michiru asked, voice soft and clear. “Moments when your body does magic on instinct?”

 

Moments came to mind. Shingo and the car, when she was a child. Stopping it with a power from her hands. Fighting that Cardian, that very first time, just before she’d found out Mamoru was Tuxedo Mask – the powers that broke out of her whenever she had been afraid, and in danger.

 

“When I was afraid it did…” Usagi whispered, gaze trailed on her hands in Michiru’s.

 

Michiru nodded. “Adrenaline has a way of making us perform actions we had no idea we had in us, Usagi-chan. Muscle memory, again. Your body knows what it has to do, when you let it…”

 

Usagi swallowed.

 

“Our intent now is to will it out of you on purpose, without the autopilot. Consciously. Perfectly,” Michiru said and straightened up, letting go of Usagi’s hands as Haruka moved up next to her.

 

“Just that you have the balance of a two-year-old, Koneko.” Haruka winked, and Usagi pursed her lips again. “It’s really rather frustrating, all that power in such a klutz. Which is why you need to learn balance – if you can’t even stand balanced, how will you ever learn how to dance precisely?”

 

“But…” Usagi started, wringing her hands, “I _can_ dance!”

 

Haruka raised an eyebrow, “Koneko… we’ve seen you move, there’s no way you could be precise when you…”

 

“But… I can!” Usagi protested. “Not on my own, but with Mamo-chan, I can!”

 

Haruka and Michiru looked at each other again. And if all their nonverbal interactions weren’t so damn adorable she’d really be more huffy about them – they tended to do them a lot when doubting her and unsure how to word it best.

 

Usagi hurried up in her explanation, before they could nonverbally agree how to best proceed.

 

“You want my movements to be intuitive, to do magic, yes? They _do_ with Mamochan…”

 

Michiru simply leaned her head a little to the side, and she knew her well enough to know that this meant, ‘elaborate’, or ‘continue’.

 

Usagi fidgeted, from one food to the other, feeling a bit out of place, as they all just simply stood there, in the middle of the room. It felt uncomfortable.

 

“Um, Mamo-chan used to help me listen into my body? My powers? He taught me to grab at them. This is how I could learn to transform in the first place…. And even just… all of it, at all. I always feel myself most through him, when he channels my sensations back to me. They become… enhanced, stronger…” Usagi had slowed down during her explanation, Michiru’s and Haruka’s reaction confusing her.

 

They were simply looking at each other. Wide-eyed.

 

“Koneko… do you… do you two have a soul bond?”

 

Usagi blinked, and blushed a little. “Um, yes. We do…”

 

Clearly, Haruka was shocked. And Usagi couldn’t blame her. This was one of the parts Usagi did remember from her past life. Soul bonds were very, very rare. The Lunarian ritual was complicated, and a soul bond worked only on natural born soulmates… which in itself was rare to have and even rarer to end up finding in this very vast world…

 

“But…” Haruka began, eyes still wide and surprised, “Your wedding was Elysian… only Lunarian royalty can perform the ritual…”

 

Haruka’s eyes widened further in understanding, as Usagi blushed harder. “You performed it yourself.”

 

Usagi had known, of course, that she hadn’t been supposed to do it herself. Not at her own wedding. But… it wouldn’t have been right, without, and she hadn’t exactly been able to ask her mother, secret as it had been. So she did it. It was one of the very few memories that were almost completely clear.

 

Michiru cleared her throat, exchanging one last, lingering look with Haruka.

 

“Well then, Usagi-chan. I guess your prince will need to clear his schedule from now on to join us.”

 

L

 

Usagi stroked Luna’s fur so persistently and tirelessly, it was slowly starting to get greasy.

 

They were sitting in the Crown Fruit Parlour, like they so often did, but today felt as far off to Usagi as it could possibly be.

 

Ami wasn’t there – she’d been calling in sick at work for the past two days, and had instead holed herself up in the Senshi command central, all the while trying to avoid Usagi like the plague – at least that was the feeling Usagi got, and damn, it worried her. Not to mention the fact that hiding from her, when Ami was working right underneath her bedroom window, was kinda hard.

 

Minako, when Makoto mentioned Ami’s strange behavior, had acted even stranger – she’d been sad sometimes, for weeks. Usagi had noticed that, of course, but… Minako liked to deal with stuff on her own. If she didn’t tell you things, it meant she didn’t want to, and Usagi _wanted_ to respect that, but… now? When Minako couldn’t change the subject fast enough when usually _she_ was the person addressing things like that? Adamant she be kept updated, as the leader? Damn, that worried her, too.

 

And then – Mamoru. Sitting far away from her in the booth, between Makoto and Rei. He’d been careful not to touch her at all.

 

Stupid, bloody condom. If she, _somehow,_ could get it into his head not to be such a _bloody_ control freak, for just _one_ second…

 

He was acting absolutely normal, otherwise. He’d come up to Haruka and Michiru’s, instead of waiting downstairs like he usually did, when she’d called him, he’d agreed to at least try and reshuffle his schedule for the sole reason of helping her train, no questions asked, and they’d set the training back an hour to accommodate his schedule, starting tomorrow.

 

He was loving, supportive, smiling as he always was _, completely ignoring_ yesterday’s events. Everything seemed normal – yet, he wasn’t touching her. He was utterly, infuriatingly controlled. No straying hands, only closed-lipped tiny pecks to the mouth for a greeting, which Usagi wouldn’t ever call a proper kiss, again. It was driving her insane.

 

And now he sat himself right at the other side of that bloody booth from her.

 

She knew she should be having other things to worry or be frustrated about. Like Haruka and Michiru, who just a few hours ago, had turned around her understanding of her powers. Or dooming apocalypse.

 

But…

 

So, she sat there, listening to the others talk about what she had had to say when they’d first arrived, that, _newsflash_ , she was actually being trained in dancing, not combat, and how?! – mostly Mako-chan, Minako was strangely silent, which was an oddity in itself. And she was pretty sure Luna was picking vibes off from Usagi, too – no other way could Usagi explain why her cat was currently letting herself be petted so furiously, when Luna really didn’t like that, usually, except when it was coming from Mamoru’s much too skillful hands.

 

Mako-chan was in the middle of a tirade, in defense of combat, when Rei huffed and exploded.

 

“Ok, STOP. Guys, what’s up?!”

 

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief, about the fact that someone finally addressed the elephant in the room, or so Usagi thought, while both Mamoru and Minako shrank a bit into themselves.

 

Rei put her hands to her hips and started booming. “Mina’s being weird,” she said, waving a hand in Minako’s general direction, “Ami’s so weird she’s not even _HERE_ , and now you two, too? What the _hell_ is up?”

 

Mamoru started glaring at Rei. “You’re one to talk, you’ve been weird for weeks, too!” he said, and Rei opened and closed her mouth, hands leaving her hips.

 

Minako blinked. “Wait, what? You two are weird, too? Why are _you_ being weird?”

 

Mamoru snapped his mouth shut, and Usagi could just barely make out a blush on him, plus, the feeling of embarrassment that snapped alive in his veins.

 

Minako picked up on that, immediately, of course, and looked back and forth between them. And there were the details Minako wouldn’t have missed, of course. That they’re sitting apart. That for all the time Usagi had been foreplaying her fruit parfait, before, as usual, Mamoru hadn’t once looked at her lips today, as she did so. Or, that Usagi’s hands were almost painfully clawed into Luna’s fur.

 

And suddenly, all of Minako’s previous fidgeting was gone, and the old Mina was back, honed in on Mamoru.

 

“It’s sex isn’t it? You’re having sex problems.”

 

Mamoru let out a rather agonizing groan. His hands flew in his hair, and he looked at the ceiling in a rather endearing display of ‘ _Why me_?!’, while Makoto started giggling.

 

Well, it had to _do_ with sex, at least, Usagi thought. Not _too_ far off.

 

Mamoru’s ears were adorably crimson in a matter of seconds, before he exclaimed, “No! Minako! –“

 

“You know in London they have masturbation courses where everybody sits on mirrors and learns to stimulate themselves,” Minako said, offhandedly, probably enjoying the changing seasons of Usagi’s boyfriend’s face.

 

Not that Usagi didn’t feel slightly scandalized either, so, at the same time as Mamoru and Rei did the same, she yelled a loud, “MINAKO!”

 

I mean… Minako, like them was also only 17, but sometimes…

 

 “Oh really?” Minako giggled, “this is embarrassing to you? Please.” She said, tossing her hair, and took a dainty little sip from her soda, which she held like others would their Martinis, and Usagi couldn’t help but love her a little for it and started giggling… then stopped, immediately, when seeing Mamoru’s face.

 

He wasn’t all too amused about the turn of the conversation.

 

Mamoru pressed his lips together. “Can we please change the subject?” he ground out. “We’re fine, there’s nothing wrong with our lovemaking.”

 

Minako snorted out her soda. “Wait, what? You call it _lovemaking_?!”

 

By now Unazuki had joined them – as always happened when the word sex (or ‘kissing’, for that matter) fell around that establishment.  It was a Unazuki magnet, practically, and Usagi really felt she had to put a stop to this. Her poor, poor, suffering Mamo-chan… “Guys… _GUYS_ —“ she tried, with held up hands, but the fireworks had already started, no way to get a word in.

 

“Well what do _YOU_ call it?!” Mamoru hissed at Minako, blushing furiously.

 

“Sex.” Minako deadpanned, bluntly, raising an eyebrow. “Really?  Do you have cutesy nicknames for the penis and vagina, too?” She shot at him and he stuttered, and Usagi once again tried to get a word between, when Minako turned to her, eyes scandalized. “Really?  Have we allowed you to be with –“

 

“ _‘Allowed’_?!” Mamoru threw in, exasperatedly, beet red, but Minako talked right over him, not even slowing down.

 

“–a tame little vanilla flower? Is he too ‘nice’ in bed?”

 

“MINAKO!!!” Usagi yelled, and so did Rei, while Makoto shook her head, disbelieving, laughing, and Unazuki looked like she was ready to bring the popcorn.

 

“Well, have we?” Minako asked, absolutely nonplussed.

 

Usagi shot out her answer at the same time as Mamoru.

 

“I'm not answering that –“

 

“She's not answering that –“

 

Unazuki started pouting, and Usagi was half sure she was about to resort to begging that, please, someone answer this question, _please_ , when Mamoru opened his mouth, arms tightly crossed across his chest, but Mina started talking.

 

“Well, in all seriousness, though, what’s wrong? You can talk to Mama Mina about this, I give good sex advice, I promise.” Minako said, wriggling her eyebrows at both of them. But she was being completely genuine, Usagi knew. She really did like to listen about things like this, and help. But Mamoru would be the last person on earth to talk.

 

 _Especially_ not to Minako.

 

“You know, Minako. Even _if_ we had any trouble in bed, _which we don’t, thank you very much_ , it wouldn’t even matter.” Mamoru said, through clenched teeth, “And I’m not going to tell you if we prefer having sex on the bed or on the kitchen table, because it _doesn’t matter_. None is lesser than the other, and a relationship isn’t only about sex, but also about if you have breakfast at that kitchen table together, later, and who changes the bloody sheets of that bed.  It’s as much about care and responsibility.”

 

He met Usagi’s eyes for the last part, and as much as she was frustrated with him right now, she felt like melting into a puddle of goo.

 

Makoto rolled her eyes and piped in, “You guys live at Usagi’s. _Ikuko_ makes the breakfast _AND_ changes the sheets.”

 

Even _Luna_ , the traitor, started snickering.

 

“Excuse me?” Mamoru huffed, “I _have_ an apartment you know?”

 

He was met with a chorus of amused ‘Uh huh’s, ‘yeahhh riiiight’s, and ‘keep telling yourself that’.

 

But, at least, the whole incident had the result that, much later, when they left, Mamoru was touching her again, at least.  Holding his hand out to her and making a show.

 

L

 

Ami knew, of course, that she was past the days of accuracy of this simulation, but she kept watching. This was still only a few days ahead, surely, surely it was still somewhat likely what she saw here - keeping tabs on Kinmoku, on its verge of final destruction.

 

She kept her eyes glued to the screen. It was the only thing she could do - hole herself up in Senshi command central and watch - so at least someone remained to be able to tell the story of the last days of this brave, peaceful race.

 

Ami’s hands were bloody, from where her fingernails had broken her skin as she kneaded them too tightly.

 

Athena’s calculations ran in separate columns next to the images of Hotaru’s simulation on the screen, providing logarithmic regression models with live-updated variables on how much the current estimates were likely. Numbers to accompany sparkling, artificial depictions of a dying race.

 

Kinmoku was dead. The planet had been gutted, burning, red lava oozing from its crust, air turning into acidic poison…

 

And still they were fighting, defending its corpse.

 

There were still survivors.

 

Children, women, Senshi. Facing imminent and sure execution, and still they didn’t budge.

 

It was Ami’s breaking point.

 

A sob escaped her lips, as she saw one of the last remaining groups of survivors evaporated by the golden soldier, and how the leather-clad Senshi still fought - broken, starved, injured but standing strong.

 

She couldn’t take it anymore. Ami was a Senshi. Her duty was to protect, not observe. Her duty was to defend, not to watch innocents die and do nothing. But here she sat, doing just that.

 

She knew it was wrong. She knew it was dangerous, but as she rushed upstairs, silent tears streaming down her face, the images of a burning world merging in her mind with those of a burning empire millennia ago, she set her jaw, and burst through the screen doors of the Tsukino’s living room, startling Kenji and Ikuko.

 

She didn’t stop, and instead rushed up the stairs. “USAGI-CHAN!!” she yelled, and burst, heaving, crying, into the bedroom of the only person she felt she had protected - and betrayed.

 

Usagi jumped up from her bed immediately – clad in a man’s button-down – jumping across Mamoru’s form to meet Ami in the middle of the room and clutch her into her arms as she broke down and fell to her knees, sobbing into Usagi’s shoulder.

 

She was only dimly aware of Mamoru, behind them, hovering, concerned, as Ami began to spill.

 

“We need to do something, Usagi-chan, now. We need to DO something – Before they are all dead –“

_L_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: If you want a bit more on that soul bond back story, I wrote a oneshot surrounding that, a few weeks back. It’s called ‘I Pledge Myself To You’ and can be read within this universe, (though I’m not sure where it’s placed in it, yet, timewise, though DEFINITELY in the future of this story.)


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So….I kinda hid a line in Ikigai, which was always meant for this very scene, here, and written with it in mind. To weave Chaos into this story.
> 
> You guys remember, in Ikigai, when Mamoru tried to explain physics to Usagi? This was the line he used:
> 
> “Well, one of the things I find most fascinating about the fundamental forces of physics is, that, no matter in which direction and on which scale you look – if you look at the smallest particles that revolve around each other to form you and me, and the same with all the planets and all the stars and whole galaxies revolving around each other to form the universe… everything behaves exactly the same...If you break it down… one could say it’s about attraction of one thing to another…”
> 
> This, of course, is not the full story of the fundamental forces. In fact, if we take magnetism, for instance, there is also the exact opposite. The force that keeps things apart. Repulsion.
> 
> Keep this in mind for this chapter, and as always, let me know what you think ;)

L

 

“ _How_?! How could you have not told me this?!”

 

These were the words Usagi had greeted Haruka and Michiru with, as they ascended the stairs down to Senshi command central, slow and composed.

 

Minako sat, crying, on the small lounge benches to the back, Ami with her shaking hands folded in her lap.

 

Makoto stood right beside Mamoru, feelings of betrayal coming off of her in waves, Rei stood with her hand on Ami’s shoulder, guarded, thoughtful.

 

Mamoru could feel the cocktail of emotions boiling in Usagi, trembling right out of her in shudders and tears. The disappointment, the horror, the compassion, the fear, the gumption. Usagi’s decision had been made in a split second, of course, the minute Ami had broken and spilled their secrets.

 

Haruka stood, chin high, sticking to her decision. Michiru was unreadable, but clutching her talisman.

 

Usagi’s voice was shaking, blurred from her frustrated tears that landed silently on her cheeks.

 

“We had a deal,” Usagi whispered, watery gaze trained strongly on Haruka, who seemed to have trouble swallowing. “We had a deal not to kill innocents. We had a deal over _ONE PERSON_. You remember that, right? Me willing to sacrifice it all for Hotaru. Over _one_ girl…” she spat, accusingly.

 

Usagi rubbed at her tears angrily, before she continued in a hiss. “What made you think it would be different over _A WHOLE PLANET_?!”

 

The room was eerily silent, yet to Mamoru they might as well have been standing in the mosh pit of a heavy metal concert – the intense cacophony of screaming emotion that crashed into him from the people in this room was almost deafening to him, and he had to force himself to keep his hands still, to not cover his ears.

 

Makoto’s arms across her chest tightened visibly, her jaw set strongly. She’d been hurt, deeply, of not having been included in this decision. Had vehemently stated she would have kept them from making it, and if that was why they didn’t include her and Rei?!

 

Rei had been silent in the matter, eyes gloomy, insides burning.

 

In fact, Rei had been silent all throughout this, eyes like fire, knowing something she didn’t say. It was, to him, perhaps, the most frightening of all emotions in this room.

 

‘ _You don’t remember,_ ’ Minako had cried. ‘You don’t _remember_ how it was, seeing her _die_ , seeing _all of you die_.’

 

It was Minako again, who broke the silence with her tear-strained, hiccupping voice. “I’m not… I’m _NOT_ letting history repeat itself, Usagi-chan... I _won’t_ have you fighting Chaos. It will not happen, never again. I _won’t let you_ —”

 

Makoto banged her fist on the control panel, causing the very structure of it to shake and the cats, who sat atop it, to jump.

 

“Don’t _talk_ to her like this. Don’t order her around. It’s her right to be furious, I’m –“

 

“ _YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND_!” Minako yelled, eyes wide, tears falling, and Artemis came traipsing to her, rubbing his head comfortingly against her shoulder.

 

“Well _, MAYBE I DON’T_!” Makoto screamed back, getting in Minako’s face and towering over her, and Mamoru felt the itch to go between them. “But, _maybe_ you should start having a little _trust in YOUR FUCKING PRINCESS_! You saw how she dealt with Kaguya’s ice age. She can do _anything_! Have a little _fucking FAITH_ in her!

 

Ami’s soft whisper broke between them. “Chaos is different.”

 

Mamoru wet his lips, and what came out when he spoke was a hoarse croak. Makoto, Usagi, Luna and Michiru all bodily turned towards him – he hadn’t spoken a lot in all of this exchange. Maybe not at all. Observing, not intruding, until now.

 

“Ami… could you explain it? Chaos?”

 

He knew, of course, she had said it times again and again, that she coined the term ‘Chaos’ as the driving force of Metallia. Of what had destroyed all of the Silver Millennium Alliance. The same force that seemed to now attack this alien planet, and had so many before that. But… she hadn’t ever _explained_ it…

 

All eyes turned to her and her trembling hands.

 

Ami cleared her throat before she spoke up. “Athena?” she said into the room, although her gaze was on Mamoru. “Please pull up my research on Chaos.”

 

 _“Of course, goshujin-sama,”_ came the artificial female voice of Ami’s supercomputer, from everywhere in the room, and Haruka looked around startled, bewildered.

 

Mamoru had to blink a bit, remembering that the two of them had only ever been here once. Had no idea about Ami’s AI.

 

Not a second passed after Athena had spoken when all of the clear walls, or windows turned into computer screens– which looked out into what might be space of something altogether different in this dimensional pocket that was the Senshi command central – _all of them_ were being covered in holographic data, filling up the entire room, document after document. Calculations, statistics, push-updated data,  simulations, DNA sequences and its analysed nucleotides, histon-codes and polymorphisms, images of dying worlds, hundreds of them, overlapping each other in the quickest succession, of black holes, of dark expressions, and dark energy forming around beings and people whose faces were twisted in hate. Some of them he recognized – Beryl, for instance – driving a spear of eternal guilt into his gut.

 

They all turned around, in circles, taking in this barrage of information with wide eyes and open mouths, covering the walls in green flickering holograms top to bottom, the sheer number of it all staggering, baffling.

 

Then his eyes found a calculation behind Ami, on the portion of glass they all considered the main screen; an equation and its mathematical derivation. He didn’t understand what he was seeing at first, until he recognized tiny portions of it –  Newton’s Universal Law of Gravitation, Coulomb’s Law to calculate electric force.

 

For a split second, he thought his heart might have stopped from the pit he felt opening in his stomach, when it dawned on him what he was seeing.

 

He needed to sit. He needed to sit now, and buckling knees found the cushioned bench Minako sat on, and he fell down next to her. He was only dimly aware of Artemis and Luna, both as shocked as he was.

 

“Is that… Is that—“ Mamoru began to stutter, eyes not leaving the equations.

 

A unifying theory for the forces of gravitation and electromagnetic force. The very thing generations of scientists have been despairing over, searching for… And here it was, right in front of him, just waiting for a Nobel Prize, should it ever be allowed out of this room.

 

“Yes,” Ami simply answered, voice small, and the cats erupted into loud exclamations.

 

Haruka and Michiru stood patiently, nonplussed, while Makoto fidgeted on the spot, agitated, no doubt, that no one seemed to explain, and he felt Usagi look at him expectantly… but, right now, all the speech had left him. There was nothing he could say, he…

 

“Anyone care to explain?” Makoto said, rather tensely.

 

“Um, yes…” Ami nodded, “um, it’s kind of hard to find a point where to start… There are some basics you’d need to understand, um… what do you know about the fundamental forces of physics?…” she trailed off, frowning, unsure.

 

He had always known Ami’s understanding of the universe was so far beyond any other person on this planet, and her intellect outshone them all, but this… this equation drove the point home for him. Of course she would struggle to explain… she _wouldn’t_ know where to start; would have difficulty knowing what they, himself included, didn’t. They must all seem like witless toddlers to her, ignorant fools, this whole race, and yet… yet Ami was one of the nicest, warmest, most compassionate and forgiving people he had ever met.

 

She was met with blinking eyes, by the majority of the room.

 

“Usako,” Mamoru said, finally, interrupting Michiru who was about to answer Ami’s question, and Usagi turned to him. “Do you remember, last year, when I tried to appeal to you the beauty of physics?”

 

She nodded, warily.

 

“Do you remember what I said?”

 

“Um, something about attraction holding the universe together,” she said, frowning. “It was rather sweet.”

 

He nodded, and looked at Ami, as if asking permission to continue, and she waved still trembling hands, in a ‘be my guest’ fashion.

 

He inhaled, one hand flew into his hair, disbelieving, but then he started talking, yet never took his eyes of the equation in front of him. “In physics, there are really only four fundamental forces from which everything else is derived. The strong nuclear force, the weak nuclear force, the gravitational force, and the electromagnetic force … The first three are all attractive. Keeping things together. The nucleus, the electron to the nucleus, two types of masses. But, the electromagnetic force… the forces between any two charges can be attractive _or_ repulsive. Like charges repel, opposites attract…”

 

“…Right. I remember that. Physics in school. Like a magnet.” Makoto said, and Mamoru shrugged, inclining his head in a ‘Sort of’ kind of way. Not really the same thing, but close enough, he supposed, so he continued on all the same.

 

“Well, the formulas to calculate the electrical force between two charges, and that to calculate the gravitational force between two masses, are incredibly similar, both following the inverse square law. So similar that physicists have been searching for a unifying theory ever since. But, so far, it has seemed it was coincidence… charges and mass seemed not to be related. But…”

 

Mamoru trailed off, voice breaking, as he stared at the screen.

 

“What?” Michiru said, voiced sounding utterly surprised, and turned to Ami, then to the screen. “Are you saying—“

 

Ami just nodded.

 

“What?! What are we saying?” Usagi asked, perplexed.

 

“This seems to be the unifying theory, yes?” Haruka said, voice calm and collected.

 

Makoto’s eyes widened, but Usagi still shook her head, confused.

 

“But… what … I don’t get what’s so special…” Usagi stammered, frustrated. They were getting off topic. There were people _dying_ –

 

“I didn’t tell you all of it, back then,” Mamoru said, his eyes leaving the screens and finally focusing on Usagi. “There’s not only attraction, there is also repulsion in the universe. And… science always thought this only applied to electric charges, but with _this_ …” he gestured back to the screen, “with this, Ami has shown that both gravitational and electrical forces are consequences of the same principal – that attraction _and_ repulsion also apply to _mass_. There is something in the universe like negative mass, like there are negative charges.”

 

Ami nodded, again, and slowly rose to a stand. It seemed Mamoru had helped her find the point where human understanding ended, and now she was ready to take over.

 

“There is negative mass.  Early in the formation of the universe it was unstable and quickly decayed whenever it formed. But the potential for negative mass exists in all of us. On a subatomic level, but it is there. It is in all of us, in every thought, in every cell, it’s there. Over time, it grows, becomes stable, and feeds, so to speak, when given the chance. This is what I talk about as Chaos,” she said, sadly.

 

The room erupted, again, into incomprehensible chatter.

 

“Wait—“ Rei said, shaking her head.

 

“Well… it doesn’t _do_ anything, unless it manifests,” Ami tried to explain, quickly. “But if it does… it interacts with positive mass with a repulsive force, is which pulls everything apart, seeking to destroy and annihilate. It is drawn to light, always its companion; shadow and darkness. It’s in every individual person and once it erupts and takes over, and once that happens with too many people… then it’s allowed to grow, become the eternal force of destruction that it is…”

 

Ami trailed off, and typed in a few commands. At once, the documents on the screens were rearranged. What remained on display were pictures – a room full of holographic pictures of destruction. Of dying, destroyed world. Planets exploding, super novae blasting waves of destruction across galaxies, black holes created in their wake. Dead, barren ruins. Pictures of the destroyed Silver Millennium. And pictures of a fight, moving, evolving. Bitter and hopeless.

 

Kinmoku, Mamoru was sure of it.

 

Usagi’s hands flew to her mouth, trying to contain the sobs that bubbled from it, and Mamoru grabbed her elbow, instinctively, steadying her.

 

“When Chaos manifests in a world, it withers away, and when it manifests in the individual, that person’s body and mind will rot, leaving only the need to destroy. You could say Chaos is the personification of hate and destruction. Buried in every nook and corner of this universe, part of it. An eternal dance of attraction and repulsion,” Ami whispered against the backdrop of death, “That’s why it can form into so many entities, everywhere, simultaneously. Why it can exist in many places at once, in so many, endless forms. As Queen Metallia, as the entity that destroyed Tau Ceti, and the one that is destroying Kinmoku right now. It can be everywhere at once because it _IS_ everywhere at once, nullifying and annihilating. Making thoughts darker and letting cells wither. You can give it many names… hate, jealousy, rot, mould, Queen Metallia … but it’s always Chaos.”

 

Mamoru had to swallow the bile that rose in him at the pictures they were shown. Usagi clawed her fingers into his shoulder and side, seeking, a whimper escaping from her lips, and he got up and wound his arm around her shoulder. Michiru, to the side, was gripping Haruka’s hand harder, as well, knuckles turning white, but her face stayed collected and blank.

 

“When Chaos does manifest, past a threshold where the repulsive force can’t balance out by the attractive force anymore, overpowers it – when it bubbles over, collects… The moment we ever notice its manifestation, it’s irreversible. And then it _will_ rip everything apart. Repulsion. The antithesis of attraction. Both form everything we know. One that keeps things together, the other that pulls them apart. They need each other, you can only destroy Chaos if you destroy every piece of matter in the universe.”

 

She pressed another set of buttons, and pictures disappeared, leaving only Ami’s formula for the unifying theory of mass and charge.

 

“It’s balance; opposites attract, just like with charge, negative and positive matter need each other, seek each other, in every part of creation. Making it so that we seek to touch but never actually do, it binds us together _and_ keeps us apart. Whenever the balance is tipped, Chaos becomes the dominating force of the two, and it runs wild, unstoppable. And, freed from the boundaries of the forces of attraction, it rips worlds apart.”

 

She sighed, and faced them. “This is Chaos. And that is also why we have no chance to destroy it.”

 

Mamoru had to swallow. How poetic that there was a mythology that had always ever said just that… greek mythology, which saw the Earth derived from Chaos, always battling it… But maybe it was because that was what literally had happened. Society having to grow again, after Chaos’s destruction of it.

 

“But we did, didn’t we?” Makoto asked, confused. “Back then? I mean – we’re still here.”

 

“We didn’t,” Minako’s voice was almost a hiss. “It killed us all, and then Queen Serenity used the most powerful object in the universe, and all it did was seal it away and give us a future somewhere else, a handful of us, with the sacrifice of her own life. The Silver Millennium died, and Chaos _wasn’t_ beat. Chaos won. We were destroyed.”

 

“Well, can we seal it, then?” It was Rei’s voice. Gloomy, hoarse. She hadn’t spoken so far. “Help Kinmoku that way?”

 

Usagi looked at Rei, and back between Ami and Minako, hope in her eyes.

 

“NO!” Minako yelled, jumping up. “Didn’t you hear me? Queen Serenity _died_ using it, and it didn’t even help!”

 

Usagi’s gaze hardened. “But I can try. My mother wasn’t a Senshi. I might just be stronger—“

 

“ _NO_!”

 

This time it wasn’t only Minako who yelled in horror. Haruka’s voice had joined the chorus… and his. It was him, though, that Usagi looked at, a look of betrayal in her eyes, and she shook herself free from under his arm.

 

Luna traipsed toward Usagi, paw against Usagi’s bare foot, trying to get her attention. “Usagi-chan…” she started. “The problem aside that you couldn’t even get there fast enough, you would be weaker the further you are from your power source… Kinmoku is almost 30 light years away from your power source… you would barely have powers at all.”

 

Usagi’s despair poured from her, again, in big, splattering tears. “But I need to _try...”_

 

Rei stepped up to her, putting both hands on Usagi’s shoulders, squeezing, as her small body wracked with anguished sobs.

 

“I _need_ to try. We need to go _. I need to go_!”

 

Everything inside him clenched together in fear, terror. She was so brave, so compassionate… and he would do everything in his power to keep her here, safe.

 

But it was Minako, ironically, who voiced his very thoughts. “Even if it were possible, I wouldn’t let you,” she whispered, barely above a whisper.

 

“Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t get there in time, Koneko…” Haruka said, voice consoling. She struggled, visibly, seeing Usagi in this state. But she stopped talking, as Usagi shot her a withering glare, daring her to use the endearment for her in this very moment.

 

“Sailor Teleport doesn’t work that way,” Michiru cut in, eyes sympathetic. “We cannot travel outside of our own solar system with it, unless one involved in the teleport has been on the destinating planet before. It’s a defense mechanism against unwanted intruders, evolved millennia before us…”

 

“And without Sailor Teleport…If we went now, with all our powers combined, _supposing_ we were able to take every warp along the way… it would still take weeks, maybe months. They are dying _now_. They might have hours left. You would only arrive to defend a corpse,” Haruka said.

 

Usagi nearly broke down crying.

 

“But … we _can’t_ just let them die. These are people.”

 

Mamoru’s stomach dropped, when Ami spoke up again.

 

“There is something we can do.”

 

Of course she had a plan. She wouldn’t have broken their pact if she hadn’t… He only prayed it would keep Usagi out of danger.

 

Haruka, Michiru and Minako all looked at her, alarmed. Accusing. But Mamoru noticed the thin spray of hope vibrating across their feelings.

 

Usagi went up to Ami, and grabbed her hands. She didn’t say anything, just looked at her, wide-eyed.

 

“A…A beacon,” Ami stuttered out, and Haruka crossed her arms, shaking her head, “We can send out a beacon. Guide them here, safe haven.”

 

Haruka got mad, immediately. “And lead Chaos’s henchmen _directly here_??! Do you _want_ to put a target on our backs?!”

 

Usagi’s breathing became faster, while Ami directed a withering stare towards Haruka. “Have some faith in me, please. I’m not stupid. It will only be detectable by Senshi. But, without it, they won’t find shelter, and _will_ die.”

 

Haruka started pacing, growling, her fists in her hair. “Do you all bloody _realize_ what you’re _doing_ , here?! You are _risking_ our world, our _whole bloody world_ , for a simulation that may or may not be accurate, for people that may or may not be alive anymore!”

 

“Make the beacon,” Usagi whispered.

 

“NO!” Haruka yelled, going up to her. Mamoru could feel it in Haruka, the fear, the terror, of losing it all again. Of failing again. And god, he didn’t want to, but he could relate…

 

“Yes,” Usagi hissed, looking Haruka directly in the eye. And for a second, Mamoru didn’t see Usagi – clumsy, happy-go-lucky Usagi, who had trouble making orders and acting like a leader, but Serenity, giving orders.

 

He didn’t quite know what the thought made him feel.

 

“I’m your princess, and this is an order,” Usagi said, chin held high. “Beacon now, or I swear I will go right now, if you’re coming with me or not, and with it your precious messiah.”

 

Haruka simply glared back, ready to pounce, ready to knock her over the head and hide her away. And Mamoru wasn’t sure he’d stop her.  

 

Usagi turned back to Ami,   “What do you need to make the beacon?”

 

Ami held out her hands, and formed a crystal in it. It only took a second. It was hexagonal, clear, and it reflected the light in prisms. When it was finished, she held it out to Usagi.

 

“It needs to be your power. As the rightful ruler of the alliance of the solar system it needs to be your energy.”

 

His heart was pounding. This was happening too fast. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what it would mean—

 

He was not the only one who felt like this. Rei beside him started pulling at her hair, groaning at the ceiling in frustration. Haruka – strong, righteous, cool Haruka had tears of frustration in the corner of her eyes, ready to scream, and Minako just couldn’t stop crying, clutching at Artemis.

 

Usagi took the Crystal – looking back up at Ami for a second, as if asking ‘What now?’ but then the Crystal gleamed, and she gasped in pain, and he felt it, leeching her energy from her, and he hissed. It took every ounce of his willpower not to intervene, not to throw himself at them and knock the crystal from her hands.

 

It took just seconds, and Usagi whimpered, growing pale, knees buckling, and Mamoru dove forward, behind her, wrapping his arms around her to catch her, steady her against him, and the crystal dropped from her hands and into Ami’s.

 

Ami pushed a set of buttons, and the control panel opened, revealing a gap in which she placed the crystal. The whole room whirred to life, glowing, immediately – a beam of the purest light he had every seen permeating the room, for less than a heartbeat.

 

Then the light was gone, and with it the Crystal.

 

Ami breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“I really hope you thought this through,” Michiru said to Ami, voice cool.

 

“And what you will do if a whole population of aliens arrives. Where do you suppose we put them, huh?” Haruka asked, voice low.

 

She didn’t mean it, Mamoru felt it. It was her way of lashing out.

 

 “You own a fucking pair of skyrises,” Makoto glared. “I suppose you can make room.”

 

“I have money. More than I could ever spend. And we have a famous racer and violinist in our midst. We will do. We will train Rei in her psychic abilities for the glamours needed. This can be done. The Earth is a big enough place, we can do this,” Ami said, confident.

 

Rei blinked at being mentioned, and pointed her finger at herself.

 

“Plus, you said it yourself. You’ve waited so long, there’s barely any survivors. A whole lot of death on your hands. You can take care of the living.” Makoto’s stare was icy, accusing.

 

And it was unfair, of course. None of them had attacked. None of them were to blame. They had simply protected their own, as was their duty. But this was Makoto’s way of lashing out.

 

With the mention of those lives lost, while her Senshi had decided Usagi’s safety was more important… it brought with it a fresh flow of silent tears.

 

“ _Why_... why did you not tell me? Don’t you understand? We’re this tiny speck of dust in the whole scale of things. We’re unimportant. _I’m_ unimportant… why didn’t you trust me…you should have… you should have…”

 

She hiccupped, her voice muffled by her hands that she tried to angrily wipe her tears with.

 

“It’s not about trust, Koneko,” Haruka explained, voice shaking. “It’s about knowing you. We knew this, exactly this, is how you would always react. Putting yourself, and this world, in the line of fire to protect the innocent, at any cost. That’s you. But it’s our _duty_ to protect this world, and you. You need to understand this…”

 

Usagi simply sobbed harder, and it was Minako this time, who stepped up to her tentatively, holding out her arms for comfort.

 

But Usagi, hurt pouring from her, looked at Minako, and didn’t go to her. Instead she turned to Ami. “Update me on this beacon thingy” she said, and then shuffled out, and up the stairs, without any further word.

 

Minako swallowed, tears bubbling from her eyes again, as Makoto followed Usagi up the stairs.

 

Mamoru looked at Minako, as she turned and found his gaze.

 

He understood her, for once. They were on the same page, maybe for the first time.

 

He would have made the exact same decision as she did. He had before. Chosen her over a world.

 

He met her gaze steadily. She felt uncomfortable with it, but something in her eyes changed.

 

Became less guarded.

 

Then she nodded.

 

He nodded back, and went up the stairs, after Usagi.

 

L

 

It hurt.

 

She felt ashamed. It was a feeling she knew, deeply, but which, simultaneously, didn’t really fit her.

 

“So… this was your secret,” Artemis said, as they walked along the quiet streets of nighttime, residential Tokyo.

 

The street was wet – it had stormed outside, while Makoto was so worked up. And the city lights – street lamps, neon signs, and the bright glare of the vending machines –  reflected on the wet asphalt. The ever-present noise of distant car wheels on wet ground felt almost like a lifeline to the empty feeling Minako felt in her gut.

 

“Yes,” she answered, simply, staring straight ahead.

 

Artemis seemed to drop the subject, just walked with her in step.

 

She’d left immediately, after Usagi had gone upstairs. Rei had looked at her so… she didn’t know how Rei looked at her, just that she didn’t like the look.

 

She’d needed to go. She couldn’t stay another minute.

 

She always seemed so open, she knew that… but when things got bad she was used to suck it up and run. She liked to deal with things on her own.

 

They turned a corner onto a bigger street. It was late, but here and there people hurried along the streets, folded, clear umbrellas clutched to their sides.

 

Another turn and the noises quieted, on their way to her home.

 

Minako exhaled. She’d never felt so useless. She was the leader, but… She was supposed to be useful. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

 

A tear fell. She’d thought there couldn’t be any tears left. And she felt Artemis slinging his furry body closer to her legs in an effort of comfort.

 

“I didn't ask for this responsibility, you know?” she whispered down at him, slowing down even more. “In either life. I had it, I felt it, I embraced it, I didn't want to shy away from it... but I never asked for it.”

 

“I know,” Artemis answered, sadly.

 

“I would love to be a singer. An idol… famous and fabulous”, she said, tossing her hair in a flourish with a wink, purely for show. It must have looked ridiculous on her teary face, and Artemis simply looked at her.

 

Her face became serious again. “But I can't.”

 

She exhaled a shaky breath, trying, for all she was worth, to get rid of that painful lump in her throat.

 

But the thoughts kept coming.

 

She hadn't been made into the leader because of her skill either, back then... yes, she was the strategist, but that came through diligence and hard work _because_ of that role, not vice versa. Jupiter would have been the much better choice. It wasn't even due to the status of her house, or because she was the oldest... it was because she resembled the royal lunar family the most, and thus Serenity. So she could be her constant guard, and once Serenity was older and would have eventually stopped aging and the age difference wouldn't show anymore…  Venus could stand in for her should the need arise, for centuries... Her eternal guard.

 

This role that sometimes felt as if it were erasing so much of her own identity… She got it because she was best fit to take over the identity of the person because of whom she had that role in the first place... It was a painful thought, no matter how much she loved Serenity, how much she loves Usagi.

 

“I used to take pride in how good at my job I was,” Minako said, eyes ahead on color play of the wet asphalt. “That they needed me, couldn’t do it without me...”

 

She let out one bitter laugh, before continuing.

 

“I came back to Tokyo to tell them who they were, protect them, help them grow into who they could be…” she whispered. “But they didn't need that. They don't need me. I'm the last one who is struggling with their super transformation, and I'm the one who should be showing them how to get there.”

 

She looked down at Artemis’s little sympathetic face, and it only caused more silent tears to bubble from her eyes.

 

“I gave all that up, always, and don't get me wrong, I'd do it again. In a heartbeat. I would _always_ do it again, but... right now I don't even see the reason, why I do. I don't see what I'm good for, here. What I bring to the table that not everyone else has done before.”

 

Usagi didn't need her. She had him. And everyone else.

 

It started raining, again. Soft drizzle. She held out her hand for it, and for a brief moment wondered what Makoto was feeling. The weather forecast had been clear skies.

 

“I wanted to be needed, I guess? I wanted to be thanked, if I'm honest, that I'm giving up everything again... it feels so...” she said, inhaling sharply to suppress a sob, and looked up into the sky, allowing the little pitter-patter of rain to mingle with the tears on her face.

 

“Artemis, it feels so horrible. I’m so horrible for feeling this. They all embrace it, they all chose it…”

 

“You chose it, too...” Artemis answered, finally.  “We didn't wake you, Mina. You fought all on your own, feeling your responsibility. Yes, it is true that that responsibility was laid upon you… But you chose to answer it, just like they did. You were giddy about it, even.”

 

Minako looked down at him. Giddy wasn’t the word she’d choose. Restless. She’d known she had a purpose. She’d wanted it… but now her purpose didn’t seem to need her.

 

“Do you think that’s why you’re not getting your Super Transformation, maybe?”

 

Minako frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

They had stopped. Her house could already be seen – but it was too soon. She couldn’t go in now.

 

“Maybe that’s why you’re running, Mina… So you don’t have to fight anymore?” Artemis said. His voice was compassionate, warm, but Mina felt the edge, knowing it was her own thoughts that twisted them to hurt.

 

“ _NO_!” She yelled, and then repeated, softer, thoughtful, “No… no…”

 

“Mina… maybe you’re not running because you can’t get stronger. Maybe you can’t get stronger because you’re running…”

 

But… From what?

 

She didn’t have to voice the thought. Artemis knew her well enough to read her.

 

“From a preset course laid out for you? A curse spoken on you? A destiny you might embrace, but you never wanted. Mina… “ Artemis trailed off, as sobs started wrecking her.

 

She cried. Big, fat, bubbly tears, just like before, just like when she’d arrived, just like when she’d been called out, just like when she feared for her princess, just like when Usagi looked at her like that… Disappointed.

 

“I _want_ to be strong. I _want_ to do what’s right. I _want_ to protect her… I wouldn’t be giving up so much if I wouldn’t…”

 

“But you do feel as if you’re giving up your life,” Artemis pointed out. It wasn’t an accusation, she knew it wasn’t. But it still felt like one.

 

“Of course I do!” she exclaimed, a little too loudly.

 

She started walking again. Artemis was silent.

 

“But it’s ok… I’ve gotten over that a lifetime ago,” she whispered.

 

“Have you?”

 

“Of course!”

 

She faltered, swallowed. And looked down at her cat, but he didn’t look back.

 

They approached the house quietly.

 

As she rummaged for her key, he spoke again, voice loaded.

 

“I know how you feel, by the way.”

 

She furrowed her brows. Huh?

 

“We are your guardians. Your advisors. I am your personal advisor, yet you taught me how to speak, you potty trained me for god's sake, and Ami far surpasses me on the technological side… But... I can still be here for you. I can still do this with you. And I know there will come the time where you will need me…” he said, his gaze trained on the ground.

 

She felt that lump grow bigger, yet again, blocking her throat oh so painfully.

 

She bent down, and cradled Artemis into her hands, crushing him against her chest, hugging.

 

“I will always need you, my little drama queen…”

 

L

 

It was carnage. Pure and utter destruction. Their planet was doomed, dead already, its corpse being turned inside out.

 

The sky was scorched in never-ending fires, tasting of blood and smoke. The cries had long been quieted, leaving only death and silence. Their atmosphere had been peeled away, everything that had once bloomed on evergreen Kinmoku, had burned under Galaxia's attack forces, leaving it to choke, as the air evaporated, coiling into open space, sizzling, crackling, dying.

 

And the heat from their two suns, once giving them life, endless harvests and prosperity, now cooked them all alive with their atmosphere’s protective shield gone.

 

Kinmoku had never seen war before Galaxia, in all its history. They were a peaceful, sharing, caring people. Quiet, mindful, considerate, protective of theirs and those around. They had known of it, in stories. Her Senshi had guarded them against it, seen it in the stars, but not them… Not until Galaxia. Not until they had been wiped out.

 

No hell could be worse than watching her beloved, sacred home explode like tar and molten lava. Nothing could ever compete with this pain, this emptiness. There was nothing left of the Tankei Kingdom, nor of any of the other once amicable diplomatic tribes under her name on her once peaceful, tranquil Kinmoku.

 

She had only death left on her heart.

 

But she would stand. As long as only one person of her people remained alive, she would stand, she would guard.

 

Galaxia would not gain her planet’s star seed. If she had to rip it out of her breast herself and throw it into Kinmoku’s opened, gaping, oozing core… Galaxia would never have it. She would not get this power to add to her collection.

 

Until the last woman standing, they would never give in.

 

Only a handful of Kinmoku’s population remained alive, had been saved - the young ones.

 

Youngsters, barely but still growing, and some mothers whose infants and children had withered in the heat. The elderly had died first, from the suns radiation, the famine, the smoke and char and sud in the air from the fires and explosions. The babies and toddlers had died soon afterwards. The fighters, the strongest, fiercest and surest of heart and integrity of her people, lead under her Starlights, had perished under Galaxia's henchmen. Gutted, stripped of their life and then turned into phages, all to mock her proud guardians of their weakness to protect theirs by that wretched ... no, she would never call Galaxia a person. Never.

 

What remained of her people were those that had been too weak to fight but too strong to die. A meek spattering of people – a hundred, at most, of the millions that had lived just months before. Healthy, robust, idealistic youngsters, mothers that had been in childbirth or tended to the small, veterans, the crippled and broken but healthy, had remained.

 

It was pure luck that Star Healer had managed to sneak them behind the lines of fire as she had found them, by chance, hiding in the tunnels, to one of the three lifeless satellites surrounding Kinmoku. A makeshift atmosphere kept them alive, for now, for mere days.

 

No supplies. No way to sustain themselves. If no miracle happened _now_ , even if Galaxia would _somehow_ overlook their hide-out, all of them would starve to death on this barren, dry moon, while she and her Senshi tried to still fight what was inevitable, resisting Galaxia on Kinmoku.

 

They would die, they would all die here. There was no hope after all.

 

No hope at all…

 

Until there was.

 

That light... She knew, she knew without a doubt. This beacon of light was the light of hope. The very miracle her heart had never dared let go, up unto this very moment, … the moment she had let go, it had shone through the fires.

 

Her Senshi had doubted her, believing her to grasp for fairytales, and here it was, breaking faintly through the universe, leading a way.

 

“ _No!_ ” she heard Star Maker call, faintly, soft in the fleeting air, although she was screaming through the cacophony of destruction and over the capacity of her poisoned lungs, breaking, choking. But she knew what she meant to say. Princess. This might be a trap.

 

But it wasn't. She could feel it. It was pure Senshi power, untainted by Chaos. It was hope.

 

And then, it had been a split second decision by her Senshi, when hell had broken loose, when Galaxia had turned to attack her, get the star seed of this planet out of her. To trust.

 

They had trusted her judgement and that was why she had been forced to leave them behind to die for her.

 

She screamed, on the top her lungs, feeling its raw edges in her throat but not hearing a sound as she was catapulted into the void of space, off towards the beacon of hope, vacuum filling her mouth and lungs and boiling the tears on her face, as she was enveloped by her Senshi’s powers.

 

She knew what had happened of course. They had concentrated all their power on her, leaving them momentarily helpless to Galaxia, to hurdle her off towards the beacon’s origin, so she might be faster than Galaxia, so she might get away.

 

She felt it, the strength of her Senshi in the force of the speed she was rocketing through the vast endlessness, could feel her power grow dim as she was blasted away from its source, Kinmoku.

 

She didn’t believe a Senshi has ever traveled as fast as she did right this second, having been pushed on by desperation, panic, love, trust.

 

But as the speed exhilarated, she could feel her powers – her connection to her planet, really – coil and shrivel in agony, like a string pulled taut, and it felt like dying all over again, pulling at her heart, at her core, at her seed.

 

And with a snap that went through her brain and mind and memory, she felt the connection to her planet tear apart and shrink into herself as she sped away faster than any Senshi had ever travelled away from their power source without teleporting.

 

As her power shrunk, her body did with it. And enveloped in her Senshi’s power, protecting her from open space, where once the heir to Kinmoku was, now only a child remained.

 

Hair turned lighter, now a soft shade of reddish pink, frightened, shivering, alone, with only the memory of destruction – as only this could never again be pulled from her mind.

 

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So…. obviously, as I have Kakyuu shrinking, a much needed note on the connection between child-form and Senshi power: I really liked the idea, in R, that Chibi-Usa didn't grow because she didn't have a connection to her powers. (In her case, her own self consciousness was at fault, and it doesn't necessarily need to be that, but the idea is what I love.) If you turn that around: Any growing or grown Senshi must have some hold and form of their powers in any kind of way, be they aware of them or not - hence why I wrote it that way in Ikigai that all the Senshi have manifestations of their abilities in their human form. And if you turn THAT on its head again, then a Senshi without a connection to their power must be a child. There you go. ;)
> 
> Also, I have two people to thank this chapter: UglyGreenJacket, my darling, who’s making me pass for a native speaker, here, although I’m not, and who keeps listening to me ramble on about this all the time to help me through it. And, Kasienda, the best scientific advisor I could have wished for ;) I told you before – I’m not a physicist. Sadly, Ami is. And thankfully, Kasienda is,too! Thank you, love, for taking my jumbled ideas on repulsion and Chaos, and turning them into a theory!
> 
> Let me know what you think pleaaaase~ ! About Kinmoku, about Chaos, about Minako, anything^^ I wanna knooow!


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… my month of academic hell is almost over! So I’ll have more time for my quicker update schedule again, soon.
> 
> Also, next week is Mamoru Week over on tumblr, for which I’ll be posting a series of one-shots during that week, so look out for that, if you’re interested in reading that ^^
> 
> And, most importantly:  
> thank you, every single one of you who is taking the time to review, you will never know what it means to me,  
> and thank you, uglygreenjacket, for going over my monster of a fic for me continuously, you will never know what it means for this story!

 

Mamoru spun Usagi out, twirled her, and tugged her back in for a sideways dip, before nudging her into a triple step alongside him. Golden hair flowed around them both, mimicking the movement like waves that were a little late.

 

Their steps were smooth, practiced, absolutely in sync to the music that came through Haruka’s sound system, and she glided back into exactly the same position they started out with, her small, soft hand slipping back into his effortlessly. She beamed up at him, proudly with twinkling eyes that he could drown in, before he waltzed them around the room in long, languid strides. One hand tucked in his, the other on his shoulder, as he cradled her petite, warm body to his by the small of her back.

 

He couldn’t deny how good and right and glorious it always felt, dancing with her. How right her body felt pressed against his, flowing, moving. It was a special kind of magic, and he guessed that was the point.

 

There was magic in dancing – he’d just never noticed it before.

 

He winked at her.

 

This part, the ballroom dancing, with the music hanging in the air, and the steps flowing rhythmically, was starting to come easily to her. And not only the simple ones – the foxtrot, the waltz – even the harder ones – quickstep, tango, lindy hop – were something, with concentration, that she was starting to become comfortable with, had started to be able to just do, and turn her mind off for – which was the whole reason they were doing this in the first place.

 

It had been seven weeks, since that day in command central. Since they’d sent out that beacon. It weighed on Usagi’s mind – all these people and their world – he could feel it in her, every minute of every day, the worry only getting bigger as nothing seemed to happen, no one seemed to arrive. Were they all dead? Had they been too late? Had the beacon not arrived? Were they…?

 

It had taken her a while longer than usual to find her cheer. But she’d smiled through it anyway, and gone on. She wouldn’t be Usagi, if she didn’t have the capability to retain her smile during any crisis. So, she only skipped one day of training, afterwards, before she stood at Haruka and Michiru’s door again, her hand tucked in his, her gaze glowering, still angry, but determined.

 

She’d wanted to be ready for whatever came, and he’d admired her for it.

 

And so, they danced.

 

Four times per week, four hours per session. After she got off school, and he rearranged study group sessions. Michiru guided them in their movements, Haruka tried to draw out Usagi’s power.

 

He was here, basically, to lead. So she could learn to trust her instinct and nail the moves, without having to put too much conscious thought in it – both by being led, and, more importantly, by having him there to mirror her movements and sensations for her, through their bond, so she could pick them out better, focus better, find the glimmer of power in it better.

 

It  worked. He couldn’t help but be a little proud about that, even when he’d never say it out loud, of course, that they could do this for each other. With him by her side, his small, klutzy girlfriend, somehow, tended to be more graceful, less prone to tripping – more in the moment.

 

Though, it wasn’t enough, yet.

 

It came down to this; she was supposed to learn to nail dance moves – _any_ dance moves at first – first with rigorous control until they were perfect, then, to make them become second nature, with no thought spared for the movement. Like small children who learn to walk.

 

Dancing was supposed to come to her like walking.

 

Just that walking, sometimes, wasn’t the easiest thing to his wonderful, ridiculous girl, either, falling and tripping as she tended to do over everything and anything.

 

So, to say it was a challenge was an understatement, and she had to clench her teeth and follow through. And while Mamoru’s presence and mirroring – both physically and mentally – helped her concentrate and master the moves, he still had to accept that his presence equally frustrated her: He was damn good at dancing. Much better than her.

 

The goal was for her to become better than him, and with dance coming to her easy, she would be able to perform any attack, instinctively.

 

As a Crystal holder, Haruka tended to recite, Usagi could do anything. She wasn’t confined to her few attacks like the rest of the Senshi, and the more versatile her body became, the better she became at listening to it and what to do, and the more likely it became that she could tap into all that endless power, and use it.

 

So, dancing it was. They tended to lace ballroom dancing between all portions of these training sessions –  sprinkle in bits she was semi-good at, so she didn’t get too frustrated, so she could keep concentrating on the harder dance moves.

 

Not that she didn’t tend to get frustrated, anyway, but it was getting better.

 

Ballroom came easiest to her, but also to him. Mirroring for her, both the movements _and_ her current power levels, was straining, and it was easier to him as well, whenever he was actually touching her.

 

It wasn’t new, of course – all the endless hours of meditation they’d done, back then, for her to grasp her powers, was nothing else, really. Diving into her sensations, and bringing it on the forefront of his mind, so she could feel it all through their bond. It had been exhausting then, and they’d done it sitting down, touching. Doing this during dance training, sometimes physically unconnected to her, while having to concentrate himself? It was another story altogether. So the ballroom dancing, coming to him naturally, was a bit of a reprieve, not only for her.

 

The humor wasn’t lost on him, of course, that she’d finally gotten her wish. She’d wanted them to take ballroom dancing lessons together, forever now.

 

But ballroom dancing wasn’t the only type of dancing they did. Michiru combined any kind of dance moves into her training sessions. As diverse as possible – some were excruciatingly hard for both of them; the highly technical ballet bits which needed rigorous body control, the acrobatic breakdance parts needing absolute fitness, the boundless stamina needed for the quick and erratic movements of hip hop. Others came easier to her than to him; the belly dance portions, or any latin dance, as well, and even the Harlem shake elements, which all needed a looseness in the hips and tummy that he simply didn’t have. Or, all the endless bits of silly party dance moves that Usagi just had more practice at, and which both she and Haruka got a kick out of seeing him perform. And then there were the ones he was natural at, while she struggled endlessly; tap dance, electro dance, Gavotte, Japan’s unique Yosakoi style dance, any type of swing dance.

 

And then there’d been that day Michiru has brought those poles for them to dance on… He’d capitulated within the hour. Not because he couldn’t – he was, to Haruka’s amusement, fairly good at it, but because he simply could. not. concentrate. while watching Usagi do it.

 

It was both hard, hard work, and their combat training definitely paid off for it, as without it they’d both have been totally lost, but even he agreed some of it was tremendously enjoyable. To make it entertaining for Usagi, Michiru had strewn in small portions of dances that she knew; ones her favorite J-Pop artists performed in their music videos, even silly PonPonPon, and party dances from any kind of international pop artists. And so they moonwalked, hammertimed, spirit fingered and smooth criminaled, in between Arabesques and Kick Ball Changes, and it just made the difference.

 

Dancing with her as she giggled her way through, looking out over beautiful Tokyo from Haruka’s apartment on one of the upper floors of one of the highest buildings in the nearer vicinity… He truly couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed it, sometimes.

 

And there were these little moments –as there had been with Ami, when he finally fully realized the full extent of her intellect – when he stopped to contemplate Michiru’s talent, and that she much rather should be dancing on the stages of the world, or teaching at the most prestigious schools, and then remembered that she was also just as talented in all the other arts. It reminded him, time and time again, that Senshi, in essence, weren’t all human. That their individual talents far surpassed human capabilities.

 

She was an amazing teacher. And it was rather peculiar how far they’d come in such relatively little time.

 

The day they’d started this – two days after the fall-out over Kinmoku, would have been rather amusing, if it hadn’t been so tense. Usako was quick to forgive, but even she had her limits. It had taken her about two weeks to not only act normal around them, but feel so, as well.

 

That being said, Haruka had been adamant to make it amusing. To rouse a laugh out of her. ‘So, Koneko tells us you’re a dancing god. Let’s see.’ Those had been the words she’d greeted him with, with a wink.

 

But the joke had been on her. Because it had worked, immediately. Usagi was, in his arms, much calmer, softer, more pliable. Allowed herself to be led completely, starting, for the first time during all their supervision on her, to perform movements on instinct, without thinking, being led.

 

‘I guess he’s good _that_ way,’ Haruka had helplessly concluded.

 

But soon it hadn’t been a challenge anymore, so they’d started going through the motions, adding dance style after dance style into their training – because, well, Usagi had reasoned, if it’s any dancing I got to nail, why not have fun? And Michiru had started digging out the worst of the worst, and Usagi had started laughing again, and Mamoru had sighed and complied, and been secretly thrilled that his giggling girl was back, even if it was because he performed Beyoncé’s ‘All The Single Ladies’ with her.

 

And, starting last week, it had begun to take effect, some of the time. And with the highest of concentration, for some small moments, while Mamoru guided her through her feelings, she produced glimmers of expelled energy through her body while moving, shimmying, turning, if not very controlled.

 

Whenever it happened he mirrored as deeply as he could, driving everything that was him to the back of his mind and only surrounding his mind in her sensations of the expelled power, so she could pick the source out better, glimmering hot within her. And sometimes it would pulse through her blood, the power the silver crystal lent her, when this happened. Telling them they were going in the right direction.

 

It made Haruka impatient, though. She wanted more output.

 

They had arguments in between. Haruka and Michiru kept telling her that Mamoru would feel differently inside than she did, for she had crystal powers and he didn’t, she should look for that difference in order to spot her glimmers in herself. Yet, she kept saying that he _didn’t_ – he didn’t _feel_ so different, ‘he feels exactly like me, crystal and all.’

 

Mamoru didn’t know what else he could do but concentrate more, throw more sensations back at her, make her feel the difference, but she didn’t find it.

 

Haruka grew frustrated, the better Usagi got at dancing, yet the power expels came so slow, and he couldn’t help but notice the thin sheen of accusation she felt in Haruka toward him. Why can’t you help her mirror _that_? It was buried, and deep, and Haruka didn’t let it show, but, well, he couldn’t help being an empath.

 

Mamoru tucked on the warm, smooth dip of Usagi’s waist, just barely, his thumb gliding across the thin material of her loose tank top that she wore over her sports bra, and she swung back in, her other hand gliding back into his, like it belonged, effortlessly, smooth. He pressed her to him, and then dipped her low, smirking.

 

She giggled, breathy, exhausted from a long day of training, and he kissed her nose.

 

He didn’t look up, but he could feel Michiru’s smug smile, which she wore whenever they became affectionate in front of the two of them, and Haruka cleared her throat.

 

“Well, it’s late. That’s it for today,” Haruka announced, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in annoyance.

 

When they exited, the skies were turning pink, the silhouette of Tokyo Tower in the distance looked black and shadowy in the glare of the slowly setting sun, and a breeze made Usagi shiver. He unzipped his training hoodie and draped it around her, under her protest.

 

It was mid-September. The intense heat had dissipated, slowly but surely, leaves were starting to turn yellow, red, and brown, winds were getting stronger, and the days shorter.

 

“Home, or..?” he asked, and she nodded.

 

“Home,” she answered, and snuggled into his side while they walked, snaking one arm beneath his thin, sweaty, black sweatshirt to touch the bare skin of his back and he chuckled, but tucked her into his side a little more in answer.

 

As least, whatever there came, they were going to face it together.

 

L

 

The skies were made of blood, the city crumbling to ruins and dust before her eyes, swirling in the sky, tornados made from death.

 

But it was silent, almost calm.

 

She knew this dream, intimately, every nook and cranny. And she also knew, any second, that it was about to change.

 

The red flowed, lashing and whipping like her fires, from the skies and into space. All of it bleeding, extinguished.

 

The whole galaxy. Collapsing. Decaying before her eyes.

 

But she couldn’t do anything. She was paralyzed, powerless. Two beams of light had shot at her, from brass – or was it golden? – arms. She could feel herself dissolving. Ceasing from existence while only her essence stayed behind, taken. Stolen.

 

 Rei woke up. Not with a start, just the natural, calm opening of her eyes. She was too used to this dream, by now, to wake from it in terror.

 

Not a dream. A vision. A prophecy. She knew this.

 

Of silence, and of her own death, before silence ever came.

 

Rei turned on her side and slipped from her futon. It was still dark outside, and she could hear the wheeze and whistle of the rough winds lashing against the thin material of the sliding doors of the shrine, accompanied by the loud caws and grating coos of Phobos and Deimos from outside her window, and the rasping, gurgling snore of her grandpa sleeping some doors down.

 

The tatami mats felt soft and familiar underneath her naked feet, and she slipped into her red Yukata, hanging from her door in lieu of a morning robe, and made her way into the fire room.

 

It greeted her, warm and welcoming, and she sat down to ask it, again.

 

_When?_

 

It flickered and cracked, almost loudly.

 

She didn’t want to die.

 

Hopefully, just keeping away from any death-bringing golden bracelets would be enough.

 

L

 

 

“ _Ja ne_!!!”  Usagi called back towards Naru and Makoto, who were both heading to gardening club. They both waved after her as she hopped back into the classroom toward Minako, who was still packing her things together, and tackled her from the side.

 

“Crepes?” Usagi asked, eyes almost watery in their hope, and Minako giggled.

 

She rolled her eyes dramatically, smirking. “ _Of course_! Who do you think I am, saying no to Crepes? Mamoru?!”

 

Usagi rolled her eyes but giggled back. It was Thursday. She had an hour and a half with Minako, who didn’t have volleyball club on Thursdays, to be spent with gossip and snacks, until she met up with Mamoru, who’d come straight from university to head to training with her.

 

They strolled out the classroom and to their lockers to change into their street shoes, before exiting the building, streams of High Schoolers zigzagging their way – some to clubs, others home or to cram schools.

 

For the first week or so, after Usagi had found out what they’d done, things had been tense between them. But… this was Minako, and Usagi could not, for everything she was worth, stay mad at Minako. She knew anything Minako did was for her, and also because she was afraid. And she also knew, that when things got tough, Minako didn’t talk – just dealt. She’d always been like this, in any lifetime. She didn’t understand it – but Usagi could respect it, even if she disagreed.

 

It didn’t make the matter right, of course. Usagi still feared for Kinmoku. She just didn’t blame her friends for it.

 

But… she wasn’t going to let that fear show. Minako blamed herself enough as it was. So, really, they didn’t talk about it. Just like she and Mamoru tended not to talk about it, how he’d have done the same, how he tended to shut her out of decisions, sometimes…

 

Those were things to be dealt with another time. It was ridiculous really – the one thing Mamoru and Minako had in common – they both tended to turn into brick walls sometimes, no going through, whenever things got rough.

 

“So, how was your date?” Usagi asked, instead, turning fully towards Minako in her hoppy walk.

 

Minako frowned for a moment, as if she had trouble remembering at all, and then her face brightened in an ‘Ahh, _that_ date’ sort of fashion, before rolling her eyes and snorting.

 

“Eh… one to toss. He flirted with me, while I went to the bathroom,” she said, shrugging, as they turned a corner and onto the red cobblestones of Juuban’s little streets.

 

Usagi drew her eyebrows together, “Uh… Mina-P…”

 

“Oh,” Minako supplied. “I don’t mean _me_ me. I used my crescent compact? I transformed to look like Rei to test him. He failed.”

 

Usagi sighed and rolled her eyes, though she still found it quite amusing that whenever Minako wanted to disguise herself as the most gorgeous person possible beside herself, she thought of Rei. Not that Usagi disagreed, obviously…

 

Also it reminded Usagi of that time Minako had done it and then Rei herself walked into the shop… Usagi had to giggle, and Minako looked at her, question in her gaze, and Usagi just shook her head, still giggling, waving it away.

 

Minako stopped in line at the little corner booth they frequented often. Pink marquees, white font in the windows, rows and rows of plastic model Japanese style crepes in their window display in front.

 

The line was short and they got to order immediately – Usagi, as always, when getting to choose from sixty plus fillings of pure goodness, took forever to decide, causing the line behind them to get longer and longer and people to start groaning and glaring in it. But after a while, they both hopped back along the street, cone shaped crepes wrapped in pink paper in their hands filled with cream, chocolate sauce, strawberries, vanilla ice cream, Pocky and brownie slices.

 

Usagi’s was halfway gobbled down by the time they stopped at the next traffic light. An old woman tutted at them for eating while walking, but Usagi barely took notice.

 

“You know it’s unfair, right?” Usagi said, mouth full and lips smacking.“You’re charming no matter what you look like. You could have flirted with him as grandpa Hino, he might have still been too helpless to your charms to not flirt back.”

 

Minako looked at her _that_ way again. That ‘ _Awwww_ , _YES_ , puh-lease, go on believing in fairies, my cute, little, naïve button of a girl’- way.

 

Usagi hrmpfed and gulped down her last bite, before crumbling the pink paper between her hands, and stuffing it in her gym bag for lack of public trash cans.

 

“What about that cute shop boy from last weekend?” Usagi asked, instead, as they walked through the automatic doors of Crown Arcade and into the high-pitched noises of japanese gaming.

 

Motoki waved at them before tsking Minako for having the gall to come into his establishment while eating what he regarded as inferior fast food, which basically was any food not of his making beside Makoto’s.

 

Minako, of course, didn’t bat an eyelash. The day still had to come where anyone could tell her what or what not to do, and she chomped off a big portion of her crepe, a little cream getting stuck on her nose which she wiped off immediately.

 

“Who do you mean?” Minako asked, mouth full, lips smacking, mimicking Usagi perfectly.

 

“That really cool and pretty looking one? Tall, beard, man-bun?” Usagi asked, looking at Minako incredulously, who still looked at her as though she was talking Chinese. Usagi had been _there_ in that shop. The flirting going on between her and that guy had pretty much been M rated. How could she forget that? “The one who gave you the discount on that pretty vintage dress and who gave you his number?”

 

“Ahhh,” Minako made, the proverbial bulb almost visibly turning on in her head the way she inclined her head. “I totally forgot about that one! Right, I should call him.”

 

Motoki wordlessly placed through milkshakes in front of them – Oreo for Usagi, cherry for Minako – before hurrying off to the back of the arcade where a frustrated kid was loudly maltreating the Sailor V game, just as Usagi shook her head oh so slowly at Minako, who finished off her crepe by licking the remaining cream from her fingers.

 

Not that she had anything against Minako’s dating habits whatsoever. But that guy fit her perfectly, and was gorgeous, and she really should have called the guy by now. It worried her a bit – not the part where Minako was dating a lot, that she supported wholeheartedly… but the part where she seemed to not give her dates a chance, lately.

 

“Call him. Like now,” Usagi said, seriously, in a stern voice she usually only used when people did appalling things like steal food off her plate.

 

Minako shrugged, playing with the straw of her milkshake and folding the crepe paper underneath it. “Eh, tomorrow. If he’s so great, he can deal to wait.”

 

Well, truth. Usagi nodded, and took a big, slurpy sip, sucking it noisily through the colorful straw.

 

“Besides,” Minako said, “you know what they say, the early bird only catches worms…”

 

Usagi giggled. “Um… I’m not sure it’s meant _that_ way, Mina-P, but—“

 

And then, the beeping started.

 

Usagi was confused for a second, checking her phone, which wasn’t ringing. But that hadn’t been the source.

 

Minako was quicker than her. Rummaging for her communicator.

 

Usagi’s eyes widened, meeting Minako’s gaze, and fumbled for her own.

 

They usually didn’t use their communicators so often. In fact, between them, they usually just used their phones.

 

The communicators were reserved for emergencies, transmitting messages to all of them. And despite all the destruction that felt like it were hanging low in the air, there hadn’t _been_ an emergency since Kaguya. Not really.

 

Usagi’s heart hammered in her chest, as she got a hold of her communicator in her bag. Going over in her mind in rapid speed where everyone was, if they were safe... Mamo-chan – university, Mako-chan – gardening club, Rei – shrine, Mama – home. Where was Papa? She didn’t know. Shit… what if —

 

She flipped the cover open at the same time as Minako. Ami’s face flickered into view on the tiny screen. She was outside, running.

 

“Something just entered the orbit of the Kuiper Belt at warp speed. I’m sending you the estimation of impact,” she half hissed into it, he voice breathy and breaking from running, and then her finger was at the screen and she was gone, replaced by Athena’s artificial voice.

 

“ _Estimated location of impact: Mt. Izagatake. Estimated time of impact: 1600. Estimated speed at impact: 23.7 full warp speed. Estimated_ —”

 

She turned frightened eyes toward Minako, whose gaze had hardened. In control. “We have an hour,” she stated, calmly, fumbled in her purse for money and left it on the counter for their milkshakes, before dragging Usagi off her stool.

 

They rushed out, running, leaving a confused Motoki behind who yelled a goodbye at them from afar.

 

_Friend or Foe…?_

 

Usagi followed Minako blindly. An hour, to get somewhere that’s 2 hours away. Sailor Teleport? But was it so precise, for a bloody mountain? “Mina-P… how are we gonna…”

 

But Minako was already on her phone. “Helicopter, now. We’ll be there in 10 minutes. Call the others.”

 

They were obviously still headed for Haruka’s.

 

L

 

They waited. Transformed, all of them. Assembled.

 

Super Sailor Moon at the front, flanked by Venus and Uranus. Tuxedo Mask right behind her, clutching his sword.

 

Sailor Mercury was scanning the area, typing furiously into her Supercomputer, mumbling commands towards her headpiece– Athena. Portable access to her, anyway.

 

The helicopter was on a patch of grass, at the very top of the mountain, thankfully wide enough, and Mars had started warding off the area with spells – using glamours she’d only just been re-learning.

 

Usagi’s heart was beating loudly. The sky was clear, the sun was shining. It was peaceful, here, in this mountain. Nothing here to indicate the arrival of anything supernatural. Except for Makoto’s loud, nervous cursing, obviously.

 

Chaos, or survivors? They couldn’t tell.

 

Whatever was coming, any moment now, was glamoured so heavily that Ami couldn’t discern what it was.

 

It didn’t come as a surprise, the accusing mood that Haruka had been in all the way here, only calmed by Michiru’s steady hand at the small of her back.

 

Usagi was glad Haruka didn’t fly them right into the trees.

 

“It’s here!” Ami yelped.

 

Before she saw the glimmer in the sky, she felt Mamoru’s attention rocket and pinpoint, and she looked up.

 

It happened fast. Crazy fast. One blink of an eye, it was a glimmer on the horizon, no bigger than the pin of a needle, the next, the mountain was shaking, and both Mamoru’s and Minako’s arms were pinning her forcefully to the ground.

 

Trees fell, whole flocks of birds screeched and fled, and a boom, so loud she thought her ears might split. 

 

When she got up, dust and soil and ash in the air and everywhere, right in front of her, was a crater in the side of the mountain, as big as a stadium.

 

Neptune and Jupiter tried to hold her back as Uranus started approaching. But she threw them a look and shook herself free.

 

She clambered over the side of the crater – the fall was steep and she would have slid and fallen would Mamoru not have grabbed her hand in the last second, steadying her as she ascended.

 

There was something gleaming, in the middle of the crater. Like a red cocoon, giving off the most alluring kind of smell. It smelt like butterflies.

 

Usagi shook her head. What nonsense. Butterflies didn’t smell.

 

“Careful!” Minako and Rei yelled, simultaneously.

 

But she’d already stopped, and so did Haruka.

 

The cocoon had started moving. Expanding.

 

She felt Haruka’s hands, tackling her to the ground, as it burst.

 

Usagi had to blink, a moment, at what crawled out…

 

… a…  a child?

 

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So… if you haven’t gotten it by now… Now might be the right time to read the Prologue again ;)


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the little bit longer wait, but I wrote an entire little drabble series for Mamoru Chiba Week in between ;)
> 
> For this scene, I experimented a bit with a different style of writing, using flashbacks, because it fit the events and what I wanted to bring across with those scenes, best. I hope you’re not too put off by that!
> 
> So, on we go, and I am NERVOUS ABOUT THIS, so please let me know what you think of this chapter, and turn of events?

L

 

It was a bit of a relief, to finally sit down on the train she knew would now finally take them home to Juuban, her trusty old Oedo Line.

 

The child in Usagi’s arms had fallen asleep a little while ago, and now snored softly on her shoulder. Usagi was pretty glad for it, to be honest – the lights and ruckus in Ikebukuro had scared the girl, they’d had trouble getting her to calm down.

 

In fact, Usagi had been worried how the traumatized, little thing would react to Tokyo’s masses upon masses of people, but while the blinking lights and technological noises had frightened her, the subdued and quiet masses of calm people on Tokyo’s trains had seemed to have the opposite effect. The more people around her, as long as they weren’t being loud, the calmer the girl had gotten.

 

It was the first time that Usagi was fully able to appreciate how quiet, respectful and orderly the Japanese could be, even when huddled together in so small a space.

 

Mamoru, right in front of her, holding one of the plastic rings suspended from the ceiling of the train car so he wouldn’t fall, sighed deeply and rubbed his face with his free hand. Rei, huddled close to them, wasn’t fairing much better. They both looked as tired as she felt, while Makoto, a little ways to the left, looked strong and determined as ever.

 

It was the four of them, huddling over this poor, poor, little girl.

 

The train was crowded, it was rush hour – which obviously tended to extend well into the evening and nighttime in Tokyo – and people stood crammed closely together, crowding each other, looking away from each other or at their feet. Mamoru had made her sit in one of the usually left empty seats for disabled people and those with children – arguing it counted, now that she had a small kid hanging from her, and resumed standing in front of her, her knees touching his legs, and it was comforting, even when the itchy, new, low-quality Yukata she wore slightly opened at her knees while she had no way to bend down and close the gap.

 

She hoped she’d made the right decision.

 

_“Hello, love… My name is Usagi. What is yours?”_

_Usagi had inched closer, tentatively, toward the cowering, scared child._

_Her heart broke for her, so much that Usagi had trouble keeping her eyes dry, the lump in her throat getting so uncomfortable she thought she might choke… but she had to keep a brave face, smile, show the girl that everything was alright, that she was safe here, with them._

_The girl lay in a pool of red, naked but for a shimmery, silky, simple robe that was much, much too big on her. She trembled, with eyes that wouldn’t stay put, looking around frightfully, silent tears streamed down her dirty face, leaving clean trails on cheeks smudged with ash and grub._

_When Usagi had spoken, she’d focused on her – inched a bit back, just as Usagi approached._

_“I’m so sorry, love. I won’t harm you, I promise.” Usagi said, her tone almost begging._

_Behind her, she knew, the rest of the Senshi stood. The child’s eyes kept looking back at them, frantically, as if cornered by the enemy. It tore at Usagi’s heart._

_They stood with shining eyes, just as Usagi did, wondering. It was Haruka who voiced everyone’s mutual concern. “She can’t be the only one… where are the others? She CAN’T be the last survivor of them… can she?” her voice was trembling, suddenly, so worried and emotional, as Michiru took her hand. The look in her eyes, so full of regret, said everything Usagi had needed to know in the last few weeks._

_They cared. And how they cared. They just had different ways._

_Usagi noticed, suddenly, that the girl didn’t seem to be as frightened by Mamoru – even though he was the masked one among them. What was different? Because he was a man? No. Haruka looked masculine, as well. … But he didn’t wear a Senshi’s uniform._

_On a whim, Usagi touched her broach, and, now, knelt before the girl in her school uniform, instead…_

_…and she visibly relaxed._

_She’s afraid of Senshi?_

_Usagi’s eyes widened, and she looked back at the girls. “De-transform!” she said, urgently._

_Haruka frowned, just a Minako took a step towards Usagi, causing the child to inch back with a whimper._

_Minako’s face became softer with realization, and just as she nodded, Makoto and Ami had already transformed back into their civilian attires, and Haruka was soon to follow, her expression unreadable, or at least Usagi had other things to concentrate on._

_This girl’s heartbreaking tears, for instance._

_Usagi inched forward again, and this time, the girl didn’t jump back in flight. She took it for a sign she may repeat her question, now._

_“Hello,” Usagi said, even softer this time, and held out her hand, palm up, towards the child. “My name is Usagi. Who are you?”_

_The girl looked at her outstretched hand, wide-eyed, and for a second there Usagi wondered if she understood her – and then wanted to facepalm herself. Of course she didn’t! She’s an alien! What the hell was she thinking—_

_“I… I don’t know,” the girl whispered, causing Usagi to blink, and Mamoru, she felt, to inch forward._

_It looked painful, the way the girl shook her head, clutching at it with dirty hands that clawed into her long, light red hair. “I don’t know!!” she yelled suddenly, hitting at her own head with her tiny fists._

_Usagi jumped forward then, grabbing at her little arms, keeping her from hitting herself, and the girl exploded into loud, hysterical cries, hiccupping and choking on them, and Usagi gathered her in her arms, rocking her._

_“Shhhhh, shhhhh” she said, and this time she couldn’t keep her own tears from flowing, but managed to keep her voice steady, for the girl’s sake. “You’re safe, now. You’re safe.”_

Usagi  looked down at her little red head, noticing, for the first time, in the artificial light of her trusted metro line, that it shone a little pink, as she moved softly and ever so slightly up and down on her, due to the deep and heavy breathing of sleep.

 

Mamoru was tense. Trying to shield them as best he could – from the other passengers, from noise, from the world. This situation, Usagi knew – a child who lost everyone she had in a catastrophe, along with her memory of them and everything else, including herself – hit much too close to home for him. Of course, he’d be protective and tense.

 

Ami had scanned her. Kinmokuan, no surprise there. Approximately four years old, going on five. Very slightly different physiology – not human, at least not exactly. Very similar to what their physiologies were in their first lives on the moon.  And, also very unsurprising, she showed all the symptoms of shock – and of course she would, she was a traumatized war child, most likely, having witnessed the destruction of her world and everything in it she’d ever held dear.

 

It had taken them four hours, by now, to get off that bloody mountain. But Usagi had seen no other way.

 

The moment Haruka had started that helicopter back up, the girl had reacted as if she were being gutted alive – started screaming so hard, so scared of the noise, that she started biting and kicking to get away from it, as fast as she could.

 

No way would Usagi make her sit half an hour in it, just to get home comfortably.

 

Mamoru had been adamant not to leave her side, of course, and Makoto had been more than happy to take a hike instead of getting back into that helicopter – Makoto was afraid of planes, having lost her parents to one, and helicopters weren’t all too much of a different thing for her.

 

While Rei, being  so very newly trained by Ami to recover her glamoring abilities from a past life she was reluctant to remember, had seen it as her personal responsibility to stay close to the child, make sure she’d be safe.

 

So it had been the four of them. The idea had been to take turns carrying her – she just wouldn’t walk on her own, just stand still and lost in thought – but she wouldn’t stay calm in anyone’s arms but Usagi’s. So, after two hours of trudging down a mountain site towards the nearest train station, Usagi’s arms were so tired, she wanted to cry.

 

Not that she showed it. There were those moments that she knew she had to be strong, for the sake of others. She’d carry that girl everywhere, if she must.

 

They’d had half an hour in the absolutely tiny little mountain town – consisting basically of an inn, an onsen, a ryokan, a conbini, and a touristy hotel – before the next express train toward Tokyo arrived, and it was the first time in her life that Usagi wasn’t furious at the sight of a tourist-trap shop selling way overpriced, low-quality paraphernalia to unsuspecting tourists, but relieved.

 

The child was naked and dirty. They didn’t want to raise questions.

 

While Usagi and Rei went with her into the bathrooms of the station, to gently and tenderly clean her up, Mamoru had dashed into the appalling store and bought two, ridiculously overpriced, mass-produced matching yukatas.

 

One child sized, one Usagi-sized, fitting her perfectly, even when it was itchy and horrible. He’d shrugged when handing them to her, saying it would make people feel they looked alike when wearing similar clothes, making people assume they must be siblings, and thus, making them look normal, everyday, not worth looking after.

 

He did have a point. She was crying, a lot, people would look. They had to act as normal as they could.

 

Meanwhile, Rei, thank _god_ for Rei, had raided the local conbini, buying loads and loads of ready made-food, and it had been as they ate, on the quiet station platform before they had boarded their first train back to Tokyo, that the girl had finally calmed down enough to talk, again.

 

Not much, and only after she’d gobbled down half of Rei’s extensive shopping,

 

She’d talked of a light. There had been a light.

 

“ _Do you know where you’re from?” Rei had asked, softly._

_She’d blinked. Confused, clutching at Usagi’s arms, as she whispered, “Home.”_

_They’d looked at each other. Probably the wrong question, but she’d continued._

_“It’s green… and music. And laughter…” she’d continued, and they’d exchanged relieved glances before she’d carried on, eyes bubbling over once more.”And fire, so much fire … and death. Only death…”_

_She burst into tears and fell back into Usagi’s arms, violent sobs wracking the tiny frame and Usagi pressed her harder against herself, with a tight hold. She knew they’d all wanted to ask one question. Are you alone? Was there someone else who survived? But they didn’t dare voice it._

_Makoto did, though, carefully, once she’d calmed down again to slow sniffles, as she handed her one more of the pastries she had seemed to liked most. “Love… how did you come here… all alone?”_

_She took a deep, shaky breath, and with tiny fingers took the pastry, and bit into it with a relieved, calming sigh that Usagi felt would only come from someone who hadn’t eaten in a long, long time._

_She thought the girl had maybe forgotten the question, as it was minutes later when she spoke again, with heavy breaks and so much frustration, all eyes on her. “I… they… I had help… they are my… but.. I don’t… I don’t remember….There was a light. A warm light. They sent me to it, to save me… but I don’t know who…”_

_She growled, hitting at her head again, and started crying, trying to remember. Usagi crushed her back into her embrace, just as Mamoru’s face hardened and he shook his head curtly._

_They all agreed with him, of course._

_No more questions. Let her heal._

While the train down from the mountain had been pretty much empty at that time of evening by then, the sun slowly setting, and even the Ikebukuro Line, up at lonely Hanno station, as well… it had been an entirely different thing at Ikebukuro and Yoyogi, where they’d had to change from JR to the metro, and the noises of Tokyo had become loud and bombarding for a traumatized child.

 

Mamoru had acted like a momma bear, aggressively trying to keep the girl from … too much.

 

God, she hoped she’d made the right decision. But… yes, professional care would, obviously, be good, but… they’d think she was insane. Professionals _couldn’t_ care for her as well as they could, could they?

 

This girl would stay with one of them. Usagi hoped in her heart it was with her, that her parents agreed. The other Senshi, flying back into Tokyo, were already there, talking to them, and to Luna and Artemis. Telling them everything that happened, and what they’d decided on. They needed her parent’s help. Usagi didn’t think she could pull this off without them.

 

They would do this. They couldn’t save her planet, but they could take care of this little girl, and they would.

_“You’re a high schooler. You can’t take care of a child. It’s better we glamour her, like we planned, get her into professional care.” Michiru said, her voice sympathetic, full of compassion for both the girl and Usagi._

_“Of course, I can!” Usagi cried, rocking the sobbing child in her lap back and forth._

_“She’s traumatized. She needs better care than you can give...” Michiru continued, “We still have an apocalypse to prepare for, you don’t have the time or the skill…”_

_Mamoru’s voice was hard and edgy as he cut in. “As someone who knows both the care that a child gets from supposed ‘professionals’ and the care that Usako can give…” he trailed off, frustrated._

_“I’m not sending her away,” Usagi whispered over the child’s crying._

_But there obviously was no real fight in Michiru or Haruka, only reason, as they looked at each other._

_“Then we won’t,” Haruka said, and Usagi’s shoulders slumped in relief._

_“But remember that she’s a child, she’ll need attention,” Michiru said, but there was no cut or accusation to it, just concern._

_It was Ami, who stepped up, voice strong and determined. “She’ll have it. I’ll help.”_

_“Me too,” Makoto said, and Minako nodded._

_“We’ll all help. We’ll do this together.” Minako said, kneeling by Usagi’s side._

_Usagi swallowed, looking down at the crying child, so oblivious to the whispered argument above her head. And the conclusion._

_We’ll be her family._

“Next stop, Azabu-Juban,” came the voice over the speaker.

 

Mamoru held her steady by the arm, as Usagi awkwardly stood up, the girl in her arms only stirring slightly.

 

They’d have to give her a name, Usagi thought, as they exited the train car, and Makoto and Rei flanked her on either side. Since she doesn’t remember hers…

 

The red cobbles of Juuban Dori felt incredibly comforting to Usagi, as they usually did. But there was that worry in her gut, resounding within her with every step they took toward her home, with every echo of Mamoru’s shoes on the street, walking right ahead of them, as if they were subconsciously creating a cocoon of people for this child.

 

God, she hoped so much that her mother would agree to take her in. That they would allow Rei to try herself at a glamour, make everyone – including Shingo – just overlook the fact that she really couldn’t be another Tsukino child, that she hadn’t been there before.

 

This girl, for all they knew, might be the sole survivor of a whole race of people... just like each of the Senshi were, just like she herself was the last remaining Lunarian - at least in memory, if not physiology, being reborn a human and all, but... still.

 

She felt so responsible for this child, it almost consumed her.

 

It was Ami who opened the door for them, Luna perched on her shoulder, before they’d even approached it fully.

 

Usagi guessed they were all as anxious as she was about this.

 

But all her worries flew away, as she saw her mother, hurrying toward them from the hall, with Minako and Kenji right behind, as Ami announced their arrival.

 

Ikuko practically glared, hands at her hips, as she announced, “This little girl _will_ live _here_. We are _not_ sending her away.”

 

Usagi teared up. Damn she loved her mother.

 

L

 

Souichi Tomoe couldn’t believe his luck.

 

Miraculously, from what he could gather, there had been a window of time today, in which no Sailor Senshi was in Tokyo. Absolutely none. The city had been left unprotected, and, more importantly, unobserved.

 

It was one of the rare moments that he was almost glad for the alien voice in his head, and its knowledge and astounding abilities.

 

“ _You would be lost without me, you primitive, witless, sickening, little, human maggot.”_

 

Well, almost.

 

But, it _was_ his chance to act, distracted as they were. But it needed to be done wisely. He could not endanger Hotaru, or his work, by blowing his cover. When Mizuno-san was to arrive back at her post, going over the surveillance data, he needed to be accounted for, every minute, now and from now on. There could be no doubt for her that he had no part in what he was about to do.

 

He needed to act, now, to prepare the city for Pharaoh 90’s arrival. This chance might not come again, every last Senshi out of town, for a little moment,

 

The only solution, of course, was to not do it himself.

 

And this was why he sat there, and would sit here, for everything about to happen in the coming weeks, in plain sight of Mizuno-san’s cameras, and work only on unsuspicious research data.

 

No action, nor email would incriminate him. Nothing they could observe.

 

And so Kaorinite had received a handwritten note. The witches would each receive a package to deliver.

 

They would plant the seeds necessary, along each point of a pentagram around Infinity, to prepare the future hub. Like a ticking, living, time bomb.

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: As always, the biggest thanks in the world goes to my wonderful, wonderful beta and friend uglygreenjacket!
> 
> So, what did you guys think?


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my reviewers posed a few questions which I thought were INCREDIBLY relevant, so I’m gonna put this answer here! She wondered how my version of chaos could fit with the story of the galaxy cauldron, and how a natural entity like I made it into, could ever produce offspring like Wiseman and Nehelenia.
> 
> I'll address the latter first: In my headcanon, Nehelenia (and Beryl, and any of its other puppets) aren't offspring of chaos. They are people that have been so tainted with hate, greed or jealousy that Chaos had an easy way in, corrupting them completely. Just that Chaos is nothing that comes from outside in my story, it's a spark that's always there, in all of us... you could say, kinda like, if Chaos had succeeded and merged itself with the cauldron after all. It’s always there, unbeatable. Any of us could be Nehelenia, if you focus too much on the jealousy, if it consumes you. I made it that way because I firmly believe there are no inherent good or evil people. There are just people who DO good and evil things and it shapes them, and thus, can also corrupt them. The potential for either is in any person. So, I'm personifying hate and all negative thought and emotion, literally anything destructive, into Chaos; as a natural force in everything and everyone, that you can either choose to tab into, or not. Which is why Wiseman (and Metallia, and Pharaoh 90) are a different story. To me, here, they aren't offspring of Chaos, either. They ARE Chaos. They appear in places where hate, rot and destruction have become so powerful that it can become corporeal. A living, walking, talking manifestation of destruction, rooted in every person and place that has been corrupted. It makes it less of ' THE one bad guy' to beat, and more of an objective, a collective responsibility that every single person has, to make their world (even if just their personal space) a good place, so something like this overpowered manifestation of hate can’t come to be in the first place. (And if it already has, well… shit.)
> 
> And to number 1: I never really went for the cauldron plotline. And don’t get me wrong, I love the Manga to pieces, but some of it just didn’t make sense to me. As a consumer of it I can appreciate it greatly, but re-writing this story arc here of sorts, there are just things I’m not buying enough to reproduce. The Cauldron and everything around it was one of those things. See – even its location, alone. So, the Cauldron, along with Shadow Galactica, was located in the center of our Milky Way Galaxy. Now, you see how I’ve tried, so far, to keep Ikigai and Yugen at least logically and SOMEHOW scientifically accurate. And, well – at the center of our galaxy is no star (and definitely not something as logic-defying as a HABITABLE star), there’s a black hole. So, I'm doing my own thang.
> 
> And yes, absolutely, I'm making Chaos into an unstoppable natural force - kind of like the thing we are facing here in the real world. Destruction doesn't come from a bad magical being, it comes from Tsunamis and Hurricanes and a changed climate and societies that we collectively allow to be run the way they are… most things of which we all collectively, as a species, choose to contribute to, even if it is by doing nothing against it. So, just like I used the Senshi's pact not to step in when shown Kinmoku’s humanitarian crisis, and then afterwards to wonder and worry about what happens if those people they didn’t help in the beginning then need a place to go, as a parallel to the refugee crisis in Europe and the world, I'm using Chaos a little bit as a fable for global warming, as well as the state of many examples of fear-inducing and hate-indulging world politics. And in case of global warming: It’s not a baddy you can defeat and then everything will go back to normal. It can't be stopped once it's there. It can only be prevented.
> 
> Also... regarding this child. A lot of you refer to her as Chibi Chibi. Just letting you know that she is not. She is Kakyuu, as a child - exactly like Kakyuu would have looked like at 4 years old. Slightly lighter hair, small frail thing. That's why I gave her a new name (as she doesn't remember being Kakyuu) – Chibi-Kiju, it’s literal translation is Small Lady ;), cause I found it fitting that Usagi would think of a name she would actually choose when having a child of her own. That being said - we know the story of Usagi and small kid falling from the sky. A feeling that I wanted to reference, play with the fact that you know two instances of this, and let you wonder about it – also what kind of author would I be if I didn’t lead you a little around the bush in the prologue ;). She's not a new character (just a different age) and this is not a new situation - just with a big twist.
> 
> So, on we go with the story, and please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think about it! ^^

Usagi sighed, gratefully, as her mother handed her a steaming mug of hot cocoa, and giggled as she saw that Mamoru had ended up with one of her mugs, again – bright pink with bunnies all over it, currently home to steaming black coffee.

 

“Thank you, Ikuko-Mama,” Minako smiled, reaching for her cocoa, as Ikuko sat down and placed one of the two, last remaining mugs in front of the empty seat beside her.

 

“YOUR COCOA’S GETTING COLD,” Usagi hollered behind her back into the kitchen, out of which, only a very faint, _‘Yeah, yeah’_ , in Makoto’s voice, was to be heard.

 

Nobody bothered to call for Chibi-Kiju, yet. In the week they’d had with her, they’d already learned she liked her hot beverages lukewarm. Plus, she seemed so mesmerized right now, Usagi really didn’t want to bother her.

 

That peaceful expression on her was far from a daily occurrence, and she really didn’t want to risk it going away. Chibi-Kiju would come in when she wanted.

 

They all sat with the kitchen chairs turned toward the big, glass patio doors, watching Chibi-Kiju as she played in the soft drizzle – dressed in one of Shingo’s old yellow raincoats, the hood drawn so tightly that only her eyes and nose were visible, and none of her brightly colored hair.

 

The sun was only just setting, and through the rain clouds, here and there, soft golden rays of light escaped just barely. It was Chibi-Kiju’s self-declared favorite time of day on ‘this weird planet’.

 

Ikuko sighed and sipped on her coffee. “I still think she shouldn’t play in the rain all the time,” she mumbled. “I swear it’s just like you and the moon at night, when you were little, always running out.”

 

“She _is_ a bit odd, isn’t she?” Minako said, softly, inclining her head.

 

Chibi-Kiju currently sat in Ikuko’s little flower patch, talking to one of her Mama’s beloved Chrysanthemums, telling it of her day.

 

“Well, you heard what Ami said,” Mamoru said, his voice slightly annoyed, defensive. “They have a different relationship with nature on Kinmoku. For her it’s natural to do this.”

 

“But she doesn’t _remember_ Kinmoku,” Minako said, more wonder in her voice than anything, but well, Mamoru was on the defense about this topic.

 

“Her past still forms her personality and habits, if she remembers it or not. Some things are ingrained deeper than memory,” he said, rather testily, and Minako held up her arms in an _‘Okay, okay, sorry I even asked’_ , sort of fashion, while Usagi laid a calming hand on his shoulder, causing him to quiet and shake his head.

 

They all jumped slightly when the front door banged shut – not especially loudly, but, silent as they were, it still vibrates through the house.

 

Shingo frowned at them, the way they sat there, watching Chibi-Kiju play outside in the rain.

 

He shook his head slowly. “This again?” he raised both his eyebrows. “You’re so weird this week, you know? It’s like you haven’t seen her do this before.”

 

Usagi cringed slightly, and so did her mother, as Shingo loudly ascended the stairs to his room. She still felt a little guilty for doing this, making him believe something that wasn’t true.

 

At least they knew Rei’s glamour worked. It was the hardest she would ever need to do, Ami had claimed. Making Shingo believe she’d always been there.

 

The other glamours were easier, and Rei was learning them fast – like Rei learned _anything_ fast, Usagi thought grumpily, and with not an insignificant amount of jealousy. Rei’s magic, being a Senshi, also involved dancing – and while Usagi was currently, and had been, trained in moving her body gracefully on instinct for _months_ now, Rei barely needed any training in that department, at all. Offhandedly commenting she’d done ballet all her childhood, and as a Miko and priest’s granddaughter, performed traditional Japanese dances even longer than that.

 

So, all she did need to learn was to concentrate into herself, learn the edges and curves around her psychic abilities and combine them with her Senshi magic, under Ami’s guidance. And, for someone who meditated in front of fires all her life, this wasn’t exactly a difficult task, concentrating.

 

Rei learned so fast, it was practically unfair.

And her glamours were strong – at least Ami said so, not that she could be a judge on that. Just that they worked.

 

The “basic” glamour, what they called it, was exactly the kind of thing hiding their identity as a Senshi. It didn’t make them look like anything else – if Usagi asked a random person on the street what Sailor Moon looked like, she would get an exact description of what she looked like, as they looked her in the face. Rather, what it did was just simply _overlook_ the similarity. There was just something keeping them from making the connection, from realizing the person they describe looks like someone they might even know, or is standing right in front of them. That’s what the glamour did – it made you overlook, not question, not make the conclusion.

 

And Usagi knew firsthand how strong that magic was. So strong that, back then in the very beginning of this all, she didn’t recognize Mamoru as Tuxedo Mask, even when she could feel it was him.

 

The one Rei put on Chibi-Kiju, now, worked similarly. Made people just not question who she was, or if she’d been there before, overlooking the very fact that she’d not been here a week ago. It worked for any everyday situation – only Shingo, living here, needed a stronger one. It was that or telling him everything, and Kenji had been adamant about the fact that he at least wanted _one_ of his children to live a normal childhood, even when Ikuko had not wanted to lie to him, had thought Shingo old enough, having just turned fourteen, to be confided in.

 

The glamour on Shingo, apparently, was hard work, and not infallible. Ami had found it fascinating, had talked about it forever, thinking loudly of whether or not it could somehow be turned into technology. But Ami had also said it needed to be renewed from time to time, on Shingo, but also that it would become easier, the more actual memories he would have of her, over time, until someday, he would just remember having remembered, as weird as it sounded. Like some of those memories you tend to think you have of your own childhood, when really you only think about a story your parents told of you, or photos that you know of yourself in certain situations.  

 

Memory, in Ami’s words, was very fallible. Tell a story often enough and people will believe it. It was a notion that scared Usagi greatly.

 

Usagi felt guilty for doing this to Shingo, making him believe something that wasn’t true. But she agreed, of course, that it wasn’t her decision. It was her parents’ decision, and they had agreed on it.

 

Which was why it was _them_ who seemed so weird to Shingo, now, hovering over the little girl as if she was an alien, and not Chibi-Kiju. To him, Chibi-Kiju was just his, rather odd, little sister. To them she wasn’t, of course.

 

To Usagi, she was an orphaned, traumatized victim of a war they could have at least tried to prevent. A girl who didn’t even know her own name, so Usagi had chosen one for her. (And she stood by it, however much both her mother and Mamoru had snorted over literally naming someone ‘Small Lady’. What kind of name was that? But she found it sweet, and very fitting for the elegant, graceful, odd, little girl.)

 

Memory loss, Mamoru had been quick to supply, especially among children, was a very common defense mechanism against trauma, explaining that sometimes the brain just refused to process what they witnessed, to protect itself. It was a very logical explanation, of course – seeing your entire world ripped apart, all you know and love eradicated, will do that to you… and she’s only a child, after all!

 

Usagi was startled out of her thoughts when the patio door opened and Chibi-Kiju came in, dripping, carrying a little sapling and its roots between her cupped hands.

 

Ikuko got up immediately, used to the action already. Chibi-Kiju did this often. In fact, the back of the living room was filled with little pots of earth and tiny baby flowers. She brought them in wherever she found them, claiming they wouldn’t survive outside without help – and they wouldn’t. It was autumn, these fresh little sprouts would wither, before they ever bloomed, if they stayed outside.

 

Chibi-Kiju never picked flowers. She brought them in whole, with their roots and a little patch of earth, for Ikuko to pot and nurture. She did this a lot, and not only in Ikuko’s small backyard of a garden, but from anywhere outside, with anything from dandelions on sidewalks to their neighbors’ intricate flower patches.

 

There were some flowers she particularly liked, and she’d loved it when Makoto had taken her to the school gardens where her club was, shown her all the different kinds of flowers, plants and vegetables they grew, and had later shown her books on all the flora and fauna that grew in Japan, common and rare, and she’d taken everything in with wide-eyed fascination.

 

But then again, Chibi-Kiju was drawn to anything that lived. Yesterday, when Usagi had attempted to show her the playground she and Shingo had played at when they were little, after training, they’d had to stop on the way to help a little earthworm safely across the street, and then a little mouse that got lodged in a hedge, and a snail that lay house down on the sidewalk. They never made it to that playground, and Usagi had never noticed so many living things in her neighborhood, before they went back home, having gotten only three streets away from it.

 

And she _sung_ … all of them could swear, they’d never heard anything as sweet and beautiful as Chibi-Kiju’s voice, and Mamoru was always mad when Minako recorded her – which she did a lot – glaring at her and grumbling that if she’d so much as think of putting her on the internet, he’d have Ami hack all her accounts again.

 

Then, there were the things she wasn’t so good at. Some of them were absolutely logical, like not knowing how to use chopsticks or what all the foods were, and what the hell all those loud beeping metal things in this world were, and others had them baffled. Like the fact that Chibi-Kiju really couldn’t tell if someone was a boy or a girl, and used the wrong pronouns because of it.

 

 As equally baffling as Ami’s explanation for it. Kinmoku as a world that knew no constant gender? But Chibi-Kiju was clearly a girl, wasn’t she?

 

“Do you want your cocoa, Chibi-chan?” Minako said toward the back of the room where Chibi-Kiju stood next to Usagi’s kneeling mother, watching her as she placed the newcomer in fresh, prepared soil.

 

Usagi rolled her eyes at the nickname Minako used for her. Did _no one_ like the name she’d chosen for her?

 

Chibi-Kiju came running, squealing, and picked up her mug with a grace and elegance that was very unfitting for a four-year old, and then proceeded to nearly dunk her whole face in cocoa, while managing to not spill any drop of it whatsoever – she never did.

 

She _was_ a very odd four-year-old, wasn’t she?

 

But Usagi loved her to pieces, even after only one week.

 

“Dinner’s almost ready!!” Makoto yelled from the kitchen.

 

L

 

Ami felt almost a bit useless. It was a very foreign emotion to her, but that’s what it was, as she sat on the soft tatami mats of the Hikawa shrine, the moon shining through the open screen door, watching Rei meditate.

 

She stroked Luna’s fur, instead. Both of them hadn’t needed to make any instructions for a long while now. Rei had it down.

 

Unsurprisingly, of course. Rei was a natural, after all. These powers were her birthright.

 

Which was why she jumped a bit, surprised, causing little Luna to jump from her lap, as Rei started talking, eyes still closed.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Rei’s voice was soft, lacking the dominant tone she usually carried, and Ami cocked her head to the side.

 

“Of course.”

 

“In the past… my dreams…” Rei started, and then opened her eyes. They had something forlorn in them, almost frightful, and Ami had to swallow against the intensity conveyed.

 

“…did they always come to pass?”

 

Ami blinked. “You mean, were the prophecies always true?”

 

“Yes…”

 

Ami scrunched up her nose, and then smoothed it immediately, as she noticed. “Umm, “she began, looking down to Luna for help. “Mostly, they did, yes. But not always in the straightest way…” she trailed off, frowning.

 

It wasn’t the easiest to explain, as it defied logic. So, naturally, it was something that Ami – and Sailor Mercury – had always considered to be out of her forte. Especially now, when some of Sailor Mercury’s memories were still a bit shady for Ami to catch. Ami had knowledge, lots and lots of it, but some of the memories still alluded her.

 

“You were always much better at interpreting them, I think? And catching the meaning, than anybody else…” she said.

 

Luna traipsed up toward Rei, and stopped with her little paws right beside Rei, looking up inquiringly.

 

“If you changed your mind, I can always give you back your memories, you know…?” Luna said, quietly.

 

Rei blinked, letting her hands fall into her lap, and looked back into the fire.

 

It was something Ami sometimes envied – this connection Rei had into glimpses of things to come, but also thoughts and ideas, that weren’t her own. It always felt to her like watching a conversation she couldn’t take part in, and that’s what it was, really.

 

“No,” Rei said after a while. “I get what I need. I don’t need my memories.”

 

Luna nodded, and so did Ami. She knew it to be true – every time there was something Rei _really_ needed to know about her past self, like now, with the training of her glamours, the fire simply told her. Plus, she had always respected Rei’s decision, even if she couldn’t fully understand it. It must be hard, with those psychic abilities, visions that came to you that weren’t your own, to maintain your own personality. Under that aspect she could understand, of course, that bringing new memories to the already existing patchwork of impressions could be a daunting prospect.

 

No matter how often Minako, Usagi, Mamoru and she said that is was not aversive at all. Just like remembering something you’d forgotten.

 

But, she reckoned, that’s what it was to truly respect a decision. Accept it unconditionally, even when you can’t understand it yourself. It was trust.

 

And she trusted Rei.

 

“May I ask why you want to know?” Ami asked quietly.

 

Rei frowned, her features scrunched and thoughtful. It was a rare sight – usually Rei executed a facial control only rivaled by that of Mamoru, wary to not let people have glimpses into their thoughts, that was mostly only broken by Usagi.

 

So it had to be something really important, something Rei was battling herself whether or not to talk about.

 

“I… um…” Rei started, turning concerned eyes away from the fire and onto Ami’s.

 

But she didn’t get to finish her train of thought.

 

“ _Alarm. Incoming. Alarm_.” Athena’s voice carried over her earpiece. With widened eyes, Ami pressed her earring in rapid succession, and ripped out her Mercury Supercomputer, flipping it open. Athena’s voice now carried into the room.

 

“ _Hostile forces converging on location 35°38'27.2"N, 139°44'47.4"E. Suggesting counteractive measures immediately. Repeat. Hostile forces converging on—“_

 

She met Rei’s wide eyes over her screen, and then flipped open her communicator. It was back on her wrist since last week – the last time she’s used it after neglecting it for months now, to alarm the Senshi of Chibi-Kiju’s arrival.

 

She was well aware of the fact that she would wake the other Senshi. It was 1 am, the middle of the night.

 

“Minna,” she practically yelped into it, hopping up and hurrying after Rei, into her shoes and out of the shrine. It was Minako’s sleepy but alarmed face that she saw reflected back at her, first, then Mamoru.

 

“There’s an attack in Shibaura, 4 Chome. Now. We’re on our way.”

 

But then Athena beeped again, causing Ami’s heart to jump. “ _Second location detected. Alarm. Hostile forces converging on location 35°40'32.7"N, 139°43'26.4"E. Repeat—_ ”

 

She stopped in her run, and looked at Rei with frightened eyes. She must have looked paler than Artemis, at the moment.

 

Never leaving Rei’s gaze, she lifted the communicator back towards her face, speaking into it. “Another attack. Akasaka, 2 Chome. We need to split up.”

 

L

 

Akasaka, Ami had said. With exact coordinates. What she had failed to mention was, that these particular coordinates led into the bloody gardens of Togu Palace – the residence of the bloody Crown Prince of Japan, of all places.

 

Which meant that while the others – Haruka, Michiru, Rei and Ami – in Shibaura could draw theirs into the canals, even attack relatively safely from atop the Rainbow Bridge, they, here, had to deal not only with the hardest monsters they had _ever_ fought, but also the military, who had feared it an attack on the royal family, and was now in the line of fire.

 

Brilliant.

 

Mamoru pulled Usagi back by the shoulder. One of the soldiers was being pulled into the purple goo these strange monsters created, and thus now directly within Usagi’s range of attack.

 

She growled in frustration, and he could very much relate.

 

Minako jumped away from hers and started towards the soldier in question. With her Venus Love-Me Chain, she pulled him out of danger, albeit scorching him in the process, but, he reckoned, burn scars were better than being suffocated and drowned in alien substances.

 

Makoto acted quickly, directing thunder with a roar into the ground, traveling towards the slime monster’s point of origin. It howled, paralyzed for just one moment.

 

“Now, Sailor Moon!” she called, having cleared the way.

 

Mamoru grabbed Usagi by the waist and threw her up into the air, giving her the best angle to attack, the long, transparent ribbon of her Super fuku trailing in the wind behind her.

 

She was amazing, had been all night, moving on point, acing her attacks. He helped where he could.

 

Nobody, watching them now, could disagree how much of a well oiled battle machine the two of them were. They were completely in tune, anticipating each other’s moves. He rolled her across his shoulders when her attacks were needed in a different direction, moved between her feet to slash with his sword at obstacles in her way, threw her high above him to allow her to blast her powers where it was needed most, caught her midair where she would otherwise have fallen.

 

They were lethal. No other way about it.

 

But those monsters changed their form, fluid to solid, and back, the gooey, purple mass pouring at them at will, scorching like acid, forming crystals from their substance that they could use like knifes.

 

And, unfortunately, both their fire Senshi and the person who could analyze their best form of attack, were at a different battle site.

 

He sported a big, bleeding gash in his side, the backside of Makoto’s fuku was peeled away, along with the boiling skin of her back, forming ugly welts where the acid had hit her.

 

Yet she didn’t even wince, and instead kept hitting the enemy with waves and waves of thunder.

 

They’d formed a rhythm. Minako would clear the way of victims, Makoto would shock the enemy into solid form – at least for a small moment, and he would make sure to catapult Usagi toward the best angle with which she could blast at the strange beings, turning them to dust.

 

It worked, slowly. They’d started with 10, they were down to four. But it had taken them over an hour. All of them were injured, bleeding, and exhausted. He’d need a small, tiny reprieve, and he could heal them, one by one… but it never came.

 

He’d tried, on Usagi’s injured leg – the reason she needed catapulting and being thrown around to attack, in the first place, because she currently couldn’t on her own, the pain was too great.

 

But the moment he’d taken that small pause to concentrate, had resulted in the bleeding wound on his side, and Usagi had forbidden him to try again, until the coast was at least somewhat clear.

 

Four to go.

 

The whole place was lit up. Military and media helicopters circled the area, floodlights down towards the battle scene. The troops had withdrawn long ago, but some poor unfortunate soldiers were still trapped in the scene, no way to get out, and absolutely in their way.

 

They couldn’t attack freely, because of them.

 

 “Tuxedo Mask!!” he heard Minako yell, “left!”

 

He whipped around in the last second, barely avoiding the acidic blast of purple goo hitting him from the side. It scorched his cape away. He barely had time to rip it off his shoulder before it evaporated before his eyes, sizzling.

 

He exhaled, harshly. That was too close.

 

They heard someone scream pitifully, and Mamoru flinched, running after Usagi who ran as fast as her injured leg carried her, but she was too late. The soldier’s voice quieted, as it was covered by the lethal purple slime.

 

All he could do was tackle her to the side as the monster moved to attack her, instead, shield her with his body as the acidic fluid hit his entire backside.

 

He screamed. The agony was so excruciating he couldn’t keep the bile in, that bubbled up his throat, and vomited over Usagi’s shoulder who dragged him away.

 

The world became blurry. He could only hear her frantic screams anymore, feel her palm hitting his cheek, while she called his name, over and over.

 

Then, everything turned to black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger. I know, I’m mean. I’ll work on the next chapter quickly, I promise ;).


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is the most intense chapter I have ever written. I gave it my all.
> 
> That being said, though, it is extremely gore-y. I walked our characters through hell, to show that, this, what’s coming at them, is crazy. And fucking dangerous.
> 
> But, I absolutely understand that this isn’t what everyone wants to read. Soooo… here’s your guide for this chapter. It has 5 scenes. The second and third are the painful ones. Skip those if you need.  
> The first, fourth and fifth scenes are all blood-free.
> 
> If you want a soundtrack for those two, crazy, intense scenes: I wrote it listening to ‘Cornfield Chase’ by Hans Zimmer.

L

 

Souichi Tomoe swiveled around in his chair, in the study of his estate, and met Kaorinite by the door, just as she entered, carrying clear plastic bags filled with groceries.

 

He made sure to stop exactly in front of the window, where he could just make out the silhouette of one of the feline Mauan spies in the tree outside, listening in, in the corner of his eye.

 

He took the bags from her, bending slightly, and averted his eyes when he caught himself accidentally glancing down Kaori’s very revealing new choice of attire – no, Kaorinite’s, Tomoe corrected himself. There was nothing of Kaori left in Kaorinite. She was taken over completely by her daimon… And she looked the part. Kaori would have never dressed this way.

 

Still, he embarrassingly had to admit his body did react to her, as much as he cursed himself for it.

 

“ _Yes, you little, panting, sniffling animal. Just admit the weak, primitive nature of your species. It only takes a whiff of cun_ —“

 

He swallowed, hard, trying as hard as he could to block out Germatoid’s voice.

 

“…Professor?”

 

He blinked, looked at Kaorinite, who held out the receipt.

 

Right. The most important part of this.

 

He took it from her.

 

“Did you get everything?” he asked her, meaningfully.

 

“Of course. I was very … successful,” she said, a glint in her eye, before she turned on her heel, and strutted down the corridor.

 

He nodded, and walked towards the kitchen.

 

On the receipt, in miniscule script, the following was written:

 

All five seeds planted. Initiation has started.  Subterranean growth at 10%. Absolute Success.

 

He crumbled it in his hand, and shoved it in his pocket.

 

L

 

He woke with a pitiful groan, and wished he could slip right back into unconsciousness.

 

He felt he’d never in his life hurt this much. His entire backside felt as if it were burning, sizzling away. The smell of scorched flesh hit his nostrils, and he had to gag. He was sure the skin of his backside was completely peeled away, at least that’s what it felt like.

 

“He’s awake!!!” Someone yelled next to him, but it felt so far away, the sound so distorted, he couldn’t place the voice.

 

He felt a second person appear at his side, even though he couldn’t hear it. He had to rely on his other sense – the one that just _felt_ things, around him.

 

“Mamoru-san, can you hear me?” the voice said, unplaceable. Impossibly far away, even when he knew the person it belonged to was as close to him as could be.

 

He blinked, crying out in intense pain. He lay on his stomach, and realized with a start why he couldn’t hear –  his ear. It was completely burned away.

 

“Mamoru-san… please, you need to wake up –“

 

He blinked again, and managed, barely, to stay conscious.

 

“Usako—“ he managed to croak.

 

He knew, of course, the person next to him couldn’t be Usagi. He’d have felt her. And he did feel her – she was somewhere, around… why wasn’t she here?

 

“She’s here, too, Mamoru-san. Please, you need to heal yourself.”

 

Healing. Right. He could do that.

 

He groaned again, and tried, so hard to concentrate.

 

It was almost impossible. The pain was so intense, he could barely concentrate enough to follow his own train of thought, much less conjure up the amounts of power needed for a healing job as impossible as this.

 

It was slow, and painful, but it worked. It felt as if he had to physically pound into his flesh, knead and pull it in place, for it to heal. But he could feel the golden energy, bubbling in his blood and tissue, slowly mending him.

 

It had never before in his life taken him so long to heal himself. And when he finally was able to breathe without pain, again, opening his eyes, he felt so drained and powerless, like he’d never known.

 

The person perched next to him was Ami, holding her arm, which had the most horrid, wrong color, at a weird angle.

 

He touched her shoulder without saying anything further, directing what was left in him towards her arm, to heal her.

 

She started glowing golden, immediately, and then her eyes widened, before she shoved him off of her.

 

“No!” she yelled. “Don’t. The others need you more.”

 

He blinked, confused, too weak and slow to form words. He felt drained, so, so drained…

 

He looked around himself. He couldn’t recognize his surroundings, but then…

 

Then he felt her through their bond. Flickering, barely alive. He gasped and jumped up, stumbling, falling, and crawling on, blindly. Through a corridor he couldn’t recognize, following what he felt of her.

 

He fell into a room. Minako was stroking her hair, on the side of her face that wasn’t burned away.

 

Mamoru choked on the bile in his throat, as he fell over his legs, trying to get to her faster.

 

She was unconscious, bleeding all over. Here and there bones lay free. She was hanging by a thread.

 

He grasped her face in his hands, not hearing what the others around him shouted, only willed his powers into her. Slowly, so, so slowly, with a golden glow the skin on the side of her face grew back, smoothing over, until he got dizzy, and the shouts grew louder.

 

Someone yanked him by the arm. Minako.

 

“HER STOMACH!” she yelled. Frantically. “Her stomach first.”

 

He looked down at Usagi. He hadn’t even noticed the gaping, oozing, black blood around her middle.

 

L

 

Minako’s stomach lurched, when Mamoru passed out, _again_.

 

She knew it was unfair, she knew he was doing everything _beyond_ humanly possible, but still she cursed, shaking him.

 

The hole in Usagi’s stomach was completely healed – after which Mamoru passed out, first, or rather, second – he’d only just woken up himself, after all. But the bone of her left leg still lay free, her breathing was still irregular, her heart skipping beats, the crusted, flayed skin of her chest still oozed this murky, milky fluid.

 

He was absolutely drained of power. But he was the only one who could make sure Usagi would be alright, and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would be as merciless on her if the roles were reversed.

 

So she shook him, screaming at him, slapping his face until he woke up again, eyes unable to focus, but still he latched onto Usagi, his hands immediately shining golden. She dragged him upwards, guiding his hands toward her chest, where she thought it was most urgent.

 

It healed over, the skin bubbling fresh and new from inside the wound, until he passed out, once more.

 

It took them three more rounds exactly like this, Minako forcing the last bits of his powers out of him, Ami, silent, pale, beside them, directing her where Usagi needed help the most, until Usagi’s breathing and heart beat were rhythmic, and Ami declared her out of immediate danger.

 

Minako laid Mamoru on the floor beside Usagi, lowering his head carefully. Just as Makoto, tear strained face completely blank, lifted Usagi up so Ami could pull the bloody, messy futon away under her, Minako strode out of the room, and towards the one beside.

 

The bed Mamoru had lain in was just as bloody, of course. Mamoru, after all, had been injured almost as much as Usagi had been, and his previous temporary bed wasn’t where she was headed – but she’d seen the closet beside it, the one Haruka had told Ami the spare futons and blankets were in.

 

Haruka, of course, was still in this very room, on the bed beside the one Mamoru had lain in. Holding Michiru, still as she lay, her breathing almost as erratic as Usagi’s had been.

 

Minako tugged two futons from the closet, and threw some blankets over her shoulder. As much as she could carry.

 

Haruka watched her silently.

 

“We’ll give him half an hour to regenerate some of his power. Then we’ll wake him up for Michiru,” Minako whispered.

 

Haruka lowered her eyes, nodding.

 

Minako exhaled soundly, and made her way back out, through the long corridor of Haruka’s spacious loft. Her view was blocked by the futons, stacked higher than her head, but her instincts were sharp enough to find the way without sight.

 

At least that she could do.

 

Makoto lifted first Usagi, and then Mamoru, to be placed on the same futon. They figured the proximity would help both of them.

 

Minako laid out the second one, and then ordered Makoto, the wound on her back oozing almost as badly as the one on Usagi’s chest had been, to lay down, too.

 

Makoto protested, of course, but the pain and fatigue won over. She fell asleep before Minako ever draped the blanket around her legs.

 

It was ironic, and unfair. She, the weakest of them, had been the only one to get out of this battle unscathed.

 

She’d never felt more ashamed.

 

There had been absolutely nothing she could do as Usagi, carrying Mamoru out of there with a strength nobody knew she possessed, had dropped him in Makoto’s arms, and then charged at the enemy.

 

They had taken over an hour to destroy six of them, Usagi had toasted the last four in barely a minute after that. She had blasted through, saving every of the last remaining civilians on the way, a scream of blind fury on her lips, had blocked every acidic shot on her own, and collapsed, her wand falling first, on her knees in the remaining, draining goo of purple.

 

Minako had screamed, the sound feeling so dry and hollow on her lips, charging to catch her princess, as she fell, bleeding, broken in the acid. Carried her out of there.

 

They had hoped, Makoto and her, the others had had it easier.

 

That a water site, down at the harbor by the Rainbow Bridge, would be a piece of cake for the two Senshi who drew their powers from that very element at hand.

 

But when Ami’s ashen-faced SOS had reached them over their communicators, it had felt like a pit that opened up under Minako’s feet.

 

Minako rummaged for her phone. Three missed calls. All of them from the Tsukinos. She quickly sent a text; Usagi’s sleeping, she’s absolutely fine, just drained.

 

A lie.

 

But she couldn’t bear to think Ikuko-Mama might sleep with the image of this, the thought of her daughter, bleeding, oozing, in the acid.

 

She dropped her phone on Haruka’s slender desk and shuffled tired feet back towards the bathroom.

 

There, in a tub filled with ice and water, lay Rei. Unconscious from the pain. Her skin, in its entirety, throwing welts from the acid, like burn scars.

 

Not a sight any of them would have ever thought they’d see, on the one Senshi who was immune to fire.

 

This immunity against fire, they all supposed, was probably the reason Rei was still alive, having been entirely engulfed by the acidic daimons.

 

She sat by the foot of the tub, and took Rei’s raw, red hand in hers, ever so carefully.

 

Twenty minutes. She gave him twenty minutes before he’d need to get to work again. No matter the state he was in.

 

L

 

None of them talked, as they sat there, in the morning glow coming from Haruka’s big top-to-bottom windows.

 

Usagi sat, cradling Mamoru’s sleeping form against her lap, rocking him, running her fingers restlessly through his sweaty hair.

 

He slept, drenched, shivering. He’d be sleeping the whole day, at least they hoped so.

 

He’d saved many of their lives tonight, one after the other, with Minako as his slave driver, making him go and go again past every limit that he had.

 

Usagi choked back a sob, running her fingers over his brow. She could barely feel him.

 

Michiru knelt down next to her. She didn’t say anything, just brought the cup to Usagi’s lips, urging her to take a sip.

 

She did. She knew better than to make a fuss, and Michiru got up again, passing out cups, to Rei and Makoto behind her.

 

Usagi glanced over at Ami, who sat in the corner, typing away at Haruka’s laptop, with one hand – her other was still broken. She, as well as Haruka and her heavy, painful looking limp, had both refused to be healed by Mamoru. Both of them claiming it was a pain they could deal with, he had enough on his plate.

 

She was so thankful to them she’d started to cry silent, grateful tears.

 

All of them, of course, were still injured somewhat. As much as Minako had tortured him to go on, and on, and on, she’d also forced him to stop once each of them was out of immediate danger, even when he had wanted to go on.

 

A wound here, burn marks there. They were all still battered. But they were all going to be alright, and thanks to accelerated healing, courtesy to their Senshi powers, would be alright very soon.

 

At least, that was what they thought, until, to all their horror, Athena’s artificial voice broke the silence.

 

“ _Alarm. Incoming. Alarm_. _Hostile forces converging on location 35°38'51.9"N, 139°41'55.9"E. Suggesting counteractive measures immediately.“_

 

L

 

Makoto sat, suppressing a pained groan, on the narrow, wooden bench at the narrow, wooden table, by the narrow window front of her favorite little Udon restaurant.

 

She didn’t come here often – she didn’t like to spend the money that her parents left her with on things she felt were extraordinarily decadent; like eating out when she could just as well cook on her own.

 

But this one had always felt very special to her. The older lady who ran it was always so very motherly to Makoto, and the Udon was the best she ever had.

 

So, when Chibi-Kiju had wanted to know, this afternoon, what the best food in this world was, Makoto had decided to bring her here.

 

This was where they were, then. Sitting across from each other, waiting for their food. Chibi-Kiju daintily sipping from her beautiful little Japanese ceramic tea cup, in a way she’d never seen a 4 year old drink her tea. Poised, elegant, slowly enjoying the fragrance.

 

She kept glancing outside, mesmerized – a maple tree stood proud and tall in front of the little restaurant, its leaves turning red. 

 

Right. Ami said Kinmoku had been evergreen. The turning of the seasons must be astounding to this little girl.

 

She turned her head back down toward her teacup and winced, having moved too abruptly , the movement simultaneously pulling at her healing abdominal wound and the scarred, raw skin at her back.

 

She sighed, deeply. Ouch.

 

Makoto tried her best to appear normal, and healthy. She didn’t want to show the child the state she was in – it was nothing Chbi-Kiju should be faced with. Still, Makoto had an inkling Chibi-Kiju knew it, anyway. Indicated in the way she walked a little slower, next to her, instead of hopping merrily like she usually would, and was so very conscious of fetching her things she needed, adamant Makoto should stay seated.

 

But, Chibi-Kiju’s eyes, right now, were on the maple tree.

 

Makoto looked back, trying to see what she saw. A few leaves fell, people were walking by it.

 

She tried to follow the little girl’s eyes, and found she was looking at a fallen leaf. It lay on the sidewalk, and, here and there, a pedestrian stepped on it.

 

Chibi-Kiju’s eyes looked deeply sad.

 

Makoto’s eyes grew warmer, watching the girl closely as she cocked her head to the side.

 

“You live so secluded from nature,” Chibi-Kiju mumbled after a while.

 

 “I know,” Makoto sighed.

 

Chibi-Kiju’s lower lip protruded, resulting in the cutest pout Makoto had ever seen, and she had to smile.

 

“Is it like that everywhere, here?”

 

Makoto felt the urge to lie, to say that there were places that still held nature in a very high regard, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

 

Instead, she told the truth. “There are places where it is even worse,” she said, quietly.

 

Chibi-Kiju’s eyes grew wide, her gaze whipping to Makoto’s, momentarily.

 

“Many important people in this world think they can master and overpower nature, trick it. In their arrogance, they hurt it, and are surprised when the elements lash back at them. They feel nature should be at their whim, and they destroy it for their gain…”

 

Makoto stopped when she saw the way Chibi-Kiju’s eyes turned glassy.

 

“You know,” Makoto said, instead, “there are two main religions, here in Japan, that think a little like you do.”

 

Chibi-Kiju scrunched up her little brow. “What’s a religion?”

 

Makoto frowned, and scratched the side of her temple. “Um...” she blinked, in thought. That was kind of a tough question. Better suited for Rei, she thought. But… she was the only one at hand, she supposed.

 

“It’s a bit difficult to explain it,” Makoto said, apologetically. “But, I think, at least the idea behind it, is to believe in some form of higher power, to explain the world around us. Something that is bigger and more important than you and me. And from it come shared sets of values and morals?” she trailed off. “At least that’s the idea… I think…”

 

“The people don’t think they are the most important thing?” Chibi-Kiju asked, and Makoto couldn’t help but hear a sliver of hope in it.

 

“Well, in theory, but… religion is often used for political reasons, too. And, unfortunately, there are many religions. And much too often they fight for power over each other,” Makoto said, cringing.

 

Chibi-Kiju’s face fell. It seemed ‘power’ and ‘gain’ were fast becoming the most rueful of human concepts to her.

 

Makoto cleared her throat, willing on a cheerful face, to get the girl out of this gloomy mood. “But, as I was saying,” she said, massaging the side of her neck, “I may not be an expert about religion, but to the two main religions in Japan, nature is very important, too. All life is connected to them, and every living thing has value. Do you remember those movies Usagi watched with you last week?”

 

Makoto flinched when she saw Chibi-Kiju’s face go through the motions, first nodding, then falling – obviously remembering the state Usagi had been in, injured as she had been, when they were holed up in the Tsukino living room to watch them.

 

Chibi-Kiju nodded solemnly.

 

“Well, do you remember how in Spirited Away everything seemed a little bit alive?”

 

She nodded. “I liked that.”

 

Makoto smiled. “In Shinto, though Rei would be much better at explaining this, we have lots and lots and lots of kami. Gods that live in stone, house, tree, insect, bird, and person. Nature, to Shinto, isn’t an object that humans can conquer and rule, but humans are but a small, almost insignificant part of nature. And plants are seen as much as beings than animals and humans are,” she trailed off.

 

“Do you remember what Usagi taught you to say before we start eating?” Makoto asked with warm eyes.

 

Chibi-Kiju nodded sharply. “Itadakimasu.”

 

Makoto smiled proudly at the girl. “That’s right. It’s a very important word to remember in Japanese culture. We say it to thank and accept the gift of life we receive when we eat something. When this part of nature sustains us, enables us to live. We show our gratitude for this life to nurture us.”

 

Chibi-Kiju’s face broke into a smile.

 

“Do you understand what I mean?” Makoto asked her.

 

“Mhm,” Chibi-Kiju made, happily. “It’s not an anthropocentric worldview. The relationship between human and nature is vertical in its view, as it should be. A symbiotic, reciprocal perspective.”

 

Makoto blinked heavily.

 

Right…

 

Not your normal 4-year-old. Maybe she should have left Ami to do the explaining…

 

While Makoto was still very much dumbfounded, pondering over what Chibi-Kiju had just said, the girl’s eyes were back on the fallen leafs, carelessly stepped upon.

 

“But,” she said in her small, little girl voice. “We _are_ in Japan, right?”

 

Makoto sighed. “It’s easy to forget sometimes. We are so surrounded by asphalt and technology, influenced by powerful men who value money over life… It’s easy, going blindly and not connecting to the world. So many people do, even here… We forget to listen to the wind and the forest and the life around it, forget to thank it.”

 

Makoto trailed off, and stayed silent for a while. Chibi-Kiju simply looked at her, a kindness in her eyes that reminded Makoto almost of Usagi’s.

 

The little lady who ran this wonderful, little place arrived with two steaming, ceramic bowls of broth and meat and noodle, set them before each of them, gushed at little Chibi-Kiju, bowed, and left again.

 

Makoto handed Chibi-Kiju the chopsticks and a napkin that lay on the side of the table in a little basket, and watched as the girl touched both sides of the bowl with careful hands, then closed her eyes, as she inhaled the rich smell with a satisfied little sigh.

 

It made Makoto smile.

 

“You should learn it again,” Chibi-Kiju said, smiling.

 

Makoto blinked.

 

“To thank her,” she added. Then she brought her nose almost level with her bowl, and whispered, almost devoutly, “ _Itadakimasu_.”

 

They sat like that for a while, eating in silence, interrupted only by delighted sighs and soft moans – it _was_ delicious. Makoto could almost forget the way her body ached.

 

“Mako-chan?” Chibi Kiju asked after a little while.

 

“Yes, Chibi-chan?”

 

“Why is Mamo-chan so very tired?”

 

Makoto exhaled deeply, and set her chopsticks aside. Mamoru had practically been sleeping  non-stop for ten days, up in Usagi’s room, after those intense three days of non-stop fighting. Whenever they were done with one site, beaten and broken, the next one had popped up. They had just kept coming, stronger every time. Makoto was frankly surprised they were still alive… thanks to Mamoru. Without him, driven beyond every breaking point he had...

 

He still hadn’t recovered fully. Ikuko was almost as worried as Usagi was, watching over his bedside.

 

Makoto swallowed. “He did something that was very, very exhausting.”

 

“Is that the same reason why Usagi-chan is hurt so badly?” she asked, quietly.

 

“…Yes.”

 

“And you?”

 

Makoto swallowed.  “Yes.”

 

Accelerated Senshi healing was a thing, yes. One she was very grateful for. But there was only so much even _their_ bodies could take. It had almost been two weeks ago, that very first gooey fight, that had started the most intense marathon any of them had ever been in, yet, all of them still carried their battle scars around with them.

 

And it would be a while until Mamoru was fit enough to take care of their last ailments. And frankly, she didn’t know if she wanted him to, having seen what she had.

 

“Mako-chan?”

 

“Yes?”

 

Chibi-Kiju didn’t lift her eyes from her bowl, but she didn’t need to. Her voice said it all.

 

“It’s starting here, too, right? Whatever destroyed my home?”

 

Makoto sighed, raking a hand through her ponytail with her good arm.

 

“I hope not, Chibi-chan.”

 

 L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me? XD


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you guys, all of you who left me a review or two, so far, for being here with me. Those of you who write as well will know exactly what it means to me, and my work and motivation. You keep me going. Thank you!

 

Ami grunted in frustration. It was her way of letting out the feeling of wanting to trash the whole place in her anger.

 

Nothing. She’d gone over every last minute of surveillance footage of Tomoe over the last months. Nothing.

 

“What about this?” Artemis, sitting next to her on the console, as anxious as she was, mumbled, agitatedly.

 

She stopped the fast forward at the scene he meant. It was Tomoe and Kaori, in the hours the Senshi had been on Mount Izugatake. She’d been over this scene so often, she could narrate it by heart. It was one of the few instances a written document passed his hand that she couldn’t directly observe. Every computer he used, in his office and home, was wired, but she couldn’t wire his pencils, of course.

  

“He’s giving his assistant a list of things to get, even reading some of the items on it out loud, and she comes back half an hour later with new incubators and glasses, and then he proceeds to use them,” Ami said, sighing. A dead end.

 

“Guys, I think it’s time we may have to face the fact that we were betting on the wrong horse,” Luna said.

 

She sat a little ways away, rubbing her little kitten paws clawing underneath her, agitatedly.

 

The cats had spent the last half a year, almost, observing Tomoe’s estate. For months they’d been tigering both around and, sometimes, inside the vast building, searching for incriminating actions and objects. Nothing.

 

“It _has_ to be him,” Ami said, groaning. The microwave. Chaos in Hotaru. And…

 

She glanced over at the probe, sitting menacingly on the newly erected lab portion of Senshi Command Central. The haltingly moving, purple, acidic goo, moving inside a petri dish, moving as though it breathed. Remnants of that first daimon that had mirrored her own attack on her, almost destroying her arm. One she’d found contained traces of her own DNA in it.

 

Any attack she used on it, it had learned. Thrown back at her. But not only it – after it had succeeded mirroring her attack, they all could do it. Even the ones on different attack sites, as though they were connected through a hive mind of some sort.

 

With every attack Ami had used to fight them, she’d made it worse. By day three, the final day of battling those creatures, she had made them inadvertently nearly undefeatable.

 

How. How did those creatures possess strings of her DNA, the ones containing Senshi information, if not through Infinity’s labs?

 

They had to be daimons. They _had_ to be.

 

“We need to look at this more broadly,” Luna said. Her voice sounded as frustrated as Ami felt. And they were, of course, both of them. Watching their charges being defeated on a scale like this, barely coming out alive, over and over… Ami had seen the way Luna had cried when forced away from Usagi and Mamoru’s bedside, that first night after the three-day marathon, to go watch Tomoe instead…

 

 

“What about Hotaru? You said her attacks are getting worse,” Luna said, very matter-of-factly.

 

Ami shook her head. It wasn’t Hotaru. She knew in her heart it couldn’t be Hotaru. “She is.. but it’s insulin! It’s totally reasonable he’s treating her more frequently, _because_ she’s getting worse, not that she’s getting worse because he’s treating her…”

 

The both jumped when something beside them smashed.

 

Her water glass. It lay in a wet puddle on the floor, in tiny, crystalline pieces.

Artemis had knocked it off in frustration, and started apologizing.

 

Ami sighed. She was looking at this wrong. She had to be. She was the smartest person currently residing on this planet, how could she not figure this out?!

 

Her fingernails cut into the inside of her fists, from balling them too harshly. How the hell could these daimons have her own bloody DNA in them. How was this not her fault?

 

She’d tested, these past two weeks, over and over. The genetic codes of Tomoe’s eggs in his lab wasn’t that of the daimons they had fought, here. Still she called them that, knowing, against all reason and evidence, that It must be him. Was she too arrogant? Was she too sure? Was she looking down a dead end?

 

Luna jumped and bounded towards the stairs, as Ami heard the door creak open and slow footfalls descend the stairs.

 

Mamoru, heavily leaning onto the rail.

 

“Should you be up?” Ami asked, softly.

 

He rolled his eyes, even as she saw sweat forming on his brow from the simple task of walking down the stairs. Luna, having stopped next to him, started lecturing him in her motherly way of hers.

 

“You’re still too weak, Mamo-chan. Please, be reasonable. You should stay in bed.”

 

Not that she disagreed. Mamoru, she knew, even while he beat himself up for not being strong enough to protect any of them, as it happened, was the very reason why they were all still standing.

 

“I saw Usagi before she went to training, today,” Ami said, eyebrow raised accusingly. “She was very upset over her state of health.”

 

Mamoru shrugged.

 

Usagi had been completely healthy and uninjured, today. Every last bit of her injuries had healed, overnight. Even though she’d forbidden Mamoru to do so, they all needed him back at full strength, it was obvious he’d healed her in her sleep, after all. It threw his own recovery back, again.

 

“You know I can’t see her like this,” he murmured, apologetically.

 

Ami sighed. But, of course, she knew she’d have done the same, if she possessed the ability.

 

Mamoru finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Luna hopped around him like a concerned, agitated mother hen.

 

Mamoru had only woken up fully two days ago, after ten days of near constant sleep. To Ikuko’s watch, as Usagi had been with her, down here, changing the dressings of her numerous injuries. Usagi always did throw herself into battle to save all of them – so, over and over, Usagi had been hit the most, and thus her injuries had been quite bad.

 

His eyes had had a golden hue, but he’d moved like an eighty year-old, weak and drained. But hour after hour, he’d recovered more and more. Ikuko had forced healthy broths down his throat, as if he had the flu, not a case of overused, magical abilities, and taken his temperature – constantly raised, a side-effect of his body fighting hard to recover – as though she could do something about it.

 

And Ami had no measure to count the tears Usagi had shed for him, stroking his brow and whispering to him, those first two nights, afterwards, when he wouldn’t ever wake up, at all.

 

“Have you seen Minako?” Mamoru asked, breaking Ami from her thoughts.

 

Minako had been around a lot, but had made herself rare, as Mamoru had woken up.

 

She could see, of course, that he wasn’t asking as nonchalantly as he led on. He needed to talk to her. Everybody knew this, even Minako – which was why she wasn’t here, of course.

 

Ami pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry—“ she started, just as a sound vibrated through the room that made her choke in horror.

 

“ _Alarm. Incoming. Alarm.”_

 

It was amazing, how fast the human mind could link a few words to an emotion. Classic Conditioning. Athena need only start beeping, those words were, now, without fail, capable of making Ami start sweating in terror, her hands starting to tremble, the pit opening within her so big and empty, she felt like it might swallow her alive.

 

And she could see it all reflected in Mamoru’s horrified eyes.

 

All the more, Ami had to blink, when it _wasn’t_ hostile forces detected, that Athena warned them from, now, but something else all together.

 

“ _Organic matter detected. Entering the Kuiper Belt at 7.3 warp speed. Repeat. Organic matter detected. Estimated location of impact: Yoyogi Koen. Estimated time of impact: 2340.Estimated_ —”

 

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, as Mamoru’s lips started to tremble, his hands raking through his hair.

 

At least they had a little bit more time to prepare, now, than they had for Chibi-Kiju’s impact.

 

God, she just hoped it wasn’t ‘foe’, this time, either.

 

Without looking back up, she pressed the button of her communicator – it was now constantly back at her wrist, as often as it was in use, of now.

 

L

 

A demanding, loud knock sounded at his door, but he was expecting it, of course. Germatoid had a way of knowing who was around, and he never stopped talking, after all.

 

“ _I talk as little as a babe on Tau Ceti. Your pitiful, feeble-minded species is just too primitive for this amount of advanced thought_.”

 

“Professor?”

 

He swiveled around in his chair, careful to keep his eyes level with Kaorinite’s eyes.

 

“Here is this month’s financial report. The board will need it reviewed within the next three days, we are a little late on documentation this month.” Kaorinite handed him a thick wad of printed paper. “I highlighted the sections for you that need to be looked over most pressingly.”

 

He nodded. “That will be all?”

 

“Yes, Professor.”

 

He turned back to his desk, not looking as the shell that used to be his assistant exiting his office, but at the text at hand.

 

It was, truly, the printed out copies of this month’s reports. He knew what to look for, of course.

 

Page 16. Messages started on page 16 on a Thursday.

 

Kaorinite had highlighted 5 things on page 16.

 

Completely, Unhindered, 21,  %, Growth.  

 

It seemed, the Senshi were completely oblivious to the organic structure bubbling and growing beneath their feet, accelerated by their powers, as they fought his magnificent creatures.

 

“ _Humans,_ ” Germatoid hissed in his mind. “ _So distracted by the hunt for the culprit, they always neglect observing and fixing the thread, instead.”_

 

He sighed, swiveled back to his computer, and started working on the mundane, boring, unsuspicious report.

 

He glanced toward his calendar, propped up beside his desk.

 

5 p.m., scheduled appointment. Hotaru, shot number 64.

 

L

 

Of course, there were moments in life that everything just happened at once. Minako knew this. When shit hit the fan, it tended to be a whole shit _load_.

 

It had happened to Minako quite a lot, too, of course. That time she flunked out of one of her classes at the same time that that guy she found cute at the time joined it. Or, that time she’d had her hair done for this date with this other extremely cute guy, but on the way there, it poured down buckets so much, that not only her hair was drenched, but she was soaked to the panties, so instead of getting lost in the throes of fifth first love, she’d gone home with a cold, and then got grounded at home for ruining her mother’s expensive dress which she had borrowed without asking.

 

Or that time they collectively took in a 4 year old alien girl, while Minako was struggling to be any use as a Senshi, and then the apocalypse started to show up, unannounced.

 

Oh _wait_. Right. That was _now_. But, clearly, that was too good to be true, yet…. So, how about that time, when they took in a 4 year old alien, Minako couldn’t get her super transformation, then dooming destruction doomed a lot, and _then,_ 84 _new_ aliens arrived.

 

So, this was where they were, way past midnight, in a crater in the middle of bloody _Yoyogi_ Park, Shibuya, one of the big Toori gates of nearby Meiji Jingu looming above them, waiting for Kenji Tsukino to call back on the status of the bus he’d assured them he’d whisk up in the middle of the night, with 84, mostly teenaged Kinmokuans, none of whom could speak their language. Cause it couldn’t have been as easy as with Chibi-Kiju, right?

 

She didn’t remember ever being glad that Tokyo closed down their bigger parks at night. At least, they didn’t have to deal with _that_.

 

It was one of these moments, where she had to stand tall, being the leader of the Inner Senshi, after all, when really she wanted to break down crying, yelling to the world that she was _seventeen_ , goddammit.

 

But, what could they do? Really, this was no matter for a bunch of teenagers to deal with. She had half a mind to walk up to Japanese government, tell them all, let them deal. This was political, wasn’t it? She couldn’t of course. This wasn’t political. This was beyond. This was Senshi matter. Intragalactical. It was their business.

 

She felt immensely jealous, though. Of Ami, who took matters into her hands, talking in the kind of authoritative voice she would have been supposed to convey, of Michiru, standing gracefully and calmly, as if nothing were the matter, of Mamoru, who, despite being barely able to hold himself on his feet, felt like a calming rock, and of Usagi, who fluttered about like an agitated chicken, but who was able to make these war survivors feel as if the threat was finally over, nonetheless.

 

Ami had scanned them, of course. Kinmoku, no question. They possessed the physiology and slightly telepathic abilities that Chibi-Kiju did. And for once Minako understood what Ami had said when she’d said, weeks ago, that Kinmokuans knew no binary genders – none of these people she would be confidently able to say if they were woman or man. Not a single one. To hear that they were both, at will, switching fluidly, biology and all? It boggled her mind.

 

Though boy and girl was a more accurate description than man or woman. Most of these people were younger than her. Only a few handful of them were older – here and there were injured people she would guess around 30, at most, but none older, and no more than five. A handful in their 20s. None younger than twelve, if she guessed right. Most of them around fifteen, probably. Young, sturdy, but weak. All of them.

 

 And injured, starved. Their skin stretched across their bones and hollow cheeks. Dirt clinging everywhere, eyes wide and frightful.

 

They’d reacted worse to their fukus than Chibi-Kiju had done, which Minako couldn’t deny worried her greatly.

 

Usagi, again, had approached them first. But this time she couldn’t make herself be understood. It had taken them long, tense minutes, until Ami had found the solution, one that didn’t include plucking Chibi-Kiju from Ikuko at home to bring her face to face with the bleeding remnants of her race, to translate, in the middle of the night.

 

Athena was an interpreter of many alien languages – every one that Sailor Mercury had visited in the Silver Millennium. Sadly, Kinmoku had not been one of them. But, still, if these people were as talented in languages as Chibi-Kiju seemed to be, who inexplicably spoke Japanese without an accent whatsoever, then maybe Athena was programmed with a language they understood that wasn’t theirs.

 

Ami had sat in the dirty ground of the crater, cross-legged in front of those frightened, huddled together people, typing into her Mercury Supercomputer, ‘ _Welcome, this is planet Earth, we will help you now, we mean you well, you are safe_ ’, and sailing through every language that Athena could translate it to, before, at what felt like the seventieth language, some of them had reacted, started crying, talking back.

 

‘ _Kinmoku. We are from Kinmoku. Kinmoku’s Senshi saved us and sent us here with their powers_. _We are the last survivors_.’ Athena’s artificial voice had translated the garbled, nonsensical words of the tallest of them... Boy? Girl? Young, anyway.

 

Through it all, Minako felt like a spectator, avoiding Mamoru’s eyes, which she’d been avoiding these past days, anyway, but now, even more so. Stupid empath.

 

She couldn’t help the throb in her ribcage, and the voice that whispered… _there could have been more of them, had you acted when Ami told you, directly. You could have saved more of them, had you not been a coward._

 

She still stood by her decision. From the account these people said, in broken, horrified faces, she _knew_ , it was the right decision. They would have just perished with them, Usagi first, on the front. She would never regret saving her princess. Still, the voice in the back of her mind wouldn’t shut up, would probably never shut up in her life, again. And looking beside her, towards Haruka’s set jaw but shining eyes, standing off center just like her, she knew, she wasn’t alone in that feeling.

 

84 of them. Only 84. 85, counting Chibi-Kiju. Left of a race of pacifist, nature-loving people who had never started or fought a war in their life.

 

Minako tried not to, but she stared.

 

At two of them who looked slightly more like girls, and slightly older than twelve, who hadn’t stopped clutching at each other’s hands with whitened knuckles, all this time. At a redhead who looked like a girl in profile but like a boy from the front, who hadn’t yet focused his eyes, just kept staring straight ahead, seemingly not listening at all. At the crust of blood clinging to the shoulder of one of them, interlaced with dirt and puss, infected, yet with that arm they supported someone next to them, long strawberry blonde hair, who wouldn’t stop crying.

 

How big were the chances that one of them was Chibi-Kiju’s family? Minako’s eyes flew back to the traumatized redhead and her unfocused eyes. Usagi had said they hadn’t told Chibi-Kiju where they were going, as the girl had woken up from the ruckus, however silent they had tried to be. Of course they hadn’t – they’d no idea what or who arrived, now. But even if they’d known… it was probably for the best, Minako thought. Not to get her hopes up. It was most likely, there would be no one here who recognized her.

 

Her gaze landed back on those two, white sets of knuckles. Desperate, trembling.

 

It was only when Rei returned, from glamouring the area off, tired circles beneath her eyes, coming up behind her and wordlessly putting her hand on Minako’s shoulder, that she snapped out of it.

 

Rei’s eyes were sympathetic, as she nodded.

 

Minako had to swallow, and covered Rei’s hand on her shoulder with her own, squeezing it for just a second, before Rei withdrew, and walked toward Ami and this frightened, shivering people.

 

‘ _My name is Sailor Mars._ ’ Athena translated Rei’s soft, calm voice for the few who understood and could translate for the rest, as she sat there, in her civilian form, the black leggings she’d thrown on caked with mud as she knelt. _‘I will perform something called a glamour on each of you. It’s to keep you safe and undetected, but it will take a while._ ’

 

It all went by in a blur, for Minako. Was there something as sympathetic shock? She didn’t know. All she knew, at one time she’d plucked Artemis from the ground, not even asking herself where he came from suddenly, and had clutched at him. He’d stayed, not saying anything, allowed her fingers to claw into his fur like a lifeline.

 

By the time the birds had started joining in the chorus of crickets, and the sky wasn’t black anymore, but a deep blue, Kenji Tsukino had arrived with a bus, and they’d left the crater behind.

 

She’d never in all this time been more glad that Usagi’s parents knew everything. Her father had, literally overnight, with the discretion of a world class journalist, conjured up housing and transportation. Haruka’s skyrises had five vacant apartments in which they put six each, to keep each other company, Haruka and Michiru staying behind immediately to help them settle in for the night, show them how to reach them. For the other 54, Kenji had, acting immediately, with access to Ami’s bank account, managed to acquire two entire houses, newly refurbished and open for sale for only 12 hours, in walking distance to the Hikawa shrine, overnight, within 3 hours only. It was cramped, very, very cramped, and only a temporary solution, but they’d preferred to stay together, anyway.

 

Ami and Rei had volunteered to stay, help them settle there, and Minako had felt so relieved when she knew she could go home, now, she could close her eyes to the guilt, now, for just a few hours.

 

It was morning, the sun shining golden, when the rest of them, she, Usagi and Mamoru, Kenji, and Makoto, turned to leave. And it was that moment when one of them – the redhead with the unfocused eyes – stopped them with the first Japanese words spoken by any of them.

 

“Thank you,” the redhead said, focusing her eyes on Minako’s.

 

She couldn’t stop the tears, they bubbled freely.

 

She could have saved more of them, if she hadn’t been afraid to die.

 

L

 

Mamoru wheezed a bit, climbing the steep staircase of the Hikawa shrine. He was getting better in fast strides, yet, he was still far from being fully recovered.

 

These stairs, however, which he’d never given a second thought at all, now seemed like a looming obstacle to anyone unfortunate enough to not possess two, healthy legs and a good constitution.

 

Strange, how one’s perception changes, once you’ve truly tested out your own limits.

 

Chibi-Kiju’s tiny hand twitched a bit in his, when the roof of the shrine started appearing over the top of the stairs in her view.

 

He could feel her apprehension.

 

When they reached the top, he knelt down, so he was eyelevel with her.

 

She looked at him with wide eyes and a knit brow.

 

“As I said, love. Nothing needs to happen, here. If someone recognized you, they do, if not … then not.” Mamoru said, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

She nodded, swallowing, but her eyes remained wide and frightful.

 

He kept her gaze, looking back as intently as she looked back at him. He could feel there was a question on her mind, one she barely dared ask.

 

“What is it, Chibi-chan?” he asked, softly.

 

She blinked a bit, before she finally answered, voice barely discernible.

 

“Promise you won’t send me away?”

 

He sighed, and lifted both his hands to grab her shoulders, stroking them softly with his thumbs.

 

“I promise we won’t. I promise,” he said, voice strong. “But,” he started, and Chibi-Kiju’s eyes flickered, causing him to flinch apologetically, “if you want to stay with them, you can. It’s your decision.”

 

She nodded. Yet, her little hands grabbed onto his sleeve, her fingers clawing into the fabric of his grey button-down.

 

They’d talked about this before, of course. The night before, when the decision was made, and now on their way here. Chibi-Kiju was glamoured. The glamour worked on Kinmokuans as well. No one would question who she was, no one would look close enough to figure it out, if they didn’t know her already. As long as she didn’t make herself known to them, through, say, starting to speak Kinmokuan to them, they wouldn’t know she was one of them.

 

And they hadn’t told them, either, that there was another young survivor already on this planet. In the couple days they had been here, they’d learned how many of them had lost siblings and children. Some of them dying in their arms, others lost without a trace. They didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, speaking of a surviving child, only to break their hearts again when Chibi-Kiju wasn’t theirs.

 

They’d figured, if some of them knew her, they’d recognize her. No need to use fanfares. And if they didn’t, then Chibi-Kiju would just continue staying with them, like they’d always planned, and like Chibi-Kiju seemed to want.

 

And of course he’d noticed Ikuko’s conflict, as they left her behind that morning. How Ikuko felt so guilty for hoping no one would recognize her, so he’d bring her back to them.

 

He straightened, needing to support his weight heavily on his knee to do so, and when Chibi-Kiju clutched his hand with both of hers, hiding behind his leg a little, as they proceeded walking, her heartbeat probably discernible to him even if he _weren’t_ a psychometrist, at the moment, he asked himself if he shouldn’t have waited for Usagi to do this. Wait till school was over, and she could do this, instead. But… he was still out of classes, recovering. He had the time. He’d have to retake these classes anyway, after that long of an absence. So… he might as well be useful. But Usagi, other than him, had a way of making people feel at ease, Chibi-Kiju included, that he simply hadn’t, empath or not.

 

But, they were here, now.

 

He could already hear the voices of all those people Rei had told her grandpa were exchange students on a pilgrimage, but the patrons had dropped out, and he wouldn’t mind when they used the shrine for their hang-out and classes, did he?

 

Mamoru often wondered how many of the lies they dished him so regularly the little man looked right through, and just didn’t say anything.

 

“Mamoru-person! Good day, sir!” Shinyuu called, voice calm and friendly – the redhead, and most resilient, cheerful of them all, he found – when – he? she? – saw Mamoru walk up.

 

Mamoru had to swallow his smirk at Shinyuu’s wording. It was astounding, how fast they picked up the language,  with only that one wad of papers to go on – a textbook, pretty much, that Ami had written them within hours, teaching grammar structure and basic vocabulary, then had Athena translate it into Iptsu, one of the many languages of the planet Koronis, which a few of them spoke fluently. Now, two days after they’d started working with her instructions, they could be fully understood, all of them, even if their word choices were pretty peculiar.

 

 It was astounding, indeed.

 

He glanced down at Chibi-Kiju, wondering for the umpteenth time what the little girl didn’t know to answer. How she, other than them, who were much older than her, spoke Japanese fluently from the first minute. How she, other than them, looked to clearly possess one sex and one sex only.

 

The latter one really had him wondering the most, though. Maybe they starting switching genders later in life? Maybe it was an age thing? He wasn’t sure.

 

The only thing he did know for certain, was that Chibi-Kiju must somehow be special. When the Kinmokuans had first asked Ami, again and again, if she _really_ were _only_ female, and how that could be, and when Ami had tried, in medicinal and scientific terms, to explain it, and they’d fallen on their knees, thinking that she must be either royalty or a ‘Mother’, then, for only they were purely female…  Mothers, they’d learned a bit later, – capital M – weren’t mothers, lowercase M, since any of them, apparently, could bear children, but something else, which didn’t translate, and they hadn’t really understood, yet.  

 

Mamoru was a bit ashamed in how truly fascinating he found them, these aliens from a matriarchal society that knew no gender binary… And equally ashamed how his own mind still couldn’t keep from labeling them as ‘he’s’ and ‘she’s’, fitting to the gender they wore that day… Though Ami had advised them to choose one semi-permanently on this planet, if they could?

 

“Good morning, Shinyuu-kun,” Mamoru replied, bowing slightly, while Chibi-Kiju hid nearly fully behind his legs.

 

He touched one hand to the crown of her head, and turned back toward her.

 

“We can go, if you want?” he whispered.

 

She shook her head, vehemently, but didn’t make any notion to let go of his legs.

 

The others – a group of them, twelve of them, sat in a corner. Mamoru knew all their names, had made it his goal to memorize every last of their names in the first night – it was one of the few things he could do to show his respect for this race that had lost everything but their names and each other. He waved, and some waved back, others got up, others again averted their eyes, still wary and traumatized, and truly, he understood.

 

Not so with Shinyuu, though. In some ways, he saw a lot of Usagi in Shinyuu. So thankful to be alive, so quick to smile, even after everything they’d lost. After what they’d been through.

 

Shinyuu’s was the only smile they saw on any of them, really. And that, too, Mamoru understood.

 

“Little-person, hello!” Shinyuu said, crouching to lean around Mamoru’s leg.

 

Chibi-Kiju’s hello was mumbled into Mamoru’s legs.

 

“She is your son, Mamoru-person?” Shinyuu said, smiling.

 

Mamoru smiled, and shook his hand. “No, but she’s family,” he said, winking down at Chibi-Kiju.

 

It seemed to have been the right thing to say, because Chibi-Kiju’s heart calmed down, and her fingernails let go from the hollow of his knees.

 

She nodded, her little odangoed head bobbing – Mamoru still found Usagi’s hairstyle tremendously adorable on the little girl, or how Chibi-Kiju had reacted when she’d seen herself in the mirror with them for the first time – and had started towards the others.

 

He’d introduced her to all of them.

 

But none of them recognized her.

 

He, too, wasn’t sure how to deal with feeling relieved and sad at the same time. But he brought her home, as promised.

 

 

L

 

When the heat of impact had evaporated, and her shield started to glimmer away, Sailor Star Fighter fought her aching limbs to kneel in the small crater their arrival had caused.

 

It was dark, the middle of night on this planet, and their single moon shone brightly. Around them, they could feel the whirr of electricity in the air, of a planet full of people, going their way.

 

It felt alive. The feeling nearly made her weep in joy.

 

She stroked the maimed ground softly, where the grass had burned under her to stop her landing, thanking it, apologizing.

 

Then, she took her first breath after a month of travelling through empty space.

 

Five years. It had been five years since she last felt clean, untainted air in her lungs.

 

Well... untainted was subjective of course. She cringed a bit… she’d only been a second on this planet and already she wanted to judge anyone on this planet to pollute their atmosphere so…, didn’t they know it was the only thing protecting them from vast, deadly space?

 

But … she guessed that was her trauma talking. Having seen your own planet tear apart will do that to you.

 

“Five years.” She sighed again, this time audible.

 

“Here it would be closer to 3 ½ years,” Came a hoarse, cracking voice next to her,  matter-of factly in her stuck up no nonsense way. “Terran days and years are longer than Kinmokuan. Better get used to it now.”

 

She shook her head. Leave it to Star Maker to bury the mood.

 

Meanwhile, Healer lay on her back a little ways away, staring up into space, and Fighter could see silent tears running down her face.

 

She turned away from the sight to give her sister privacy. She could relate. She felt it, too.

 

She closed her eyes. So much work ahead.

 

But… Princess first. Princess always first.

 

She hoped so much she was ok.

 

They hadn’t been able to glamour her arrival. Neither had they been able to do that for the youngsters – the rest of their surviving people.  None of them had been able to arrive as undetected as them, they knew this, of course. So, she prayed to the Mother that they hadn’t been discovered. That they were safe, here.

 

The youngsters, at least, couldn’t have been more than mere days ahead of them, could they?

 

Star Fighter inhaled, deeply. But… nothing. She couldn’t feel them. How…?

 

She blinked. Trembling. Please, let them be safe.

 

Terra, after all, was not the friendliest place for outsiders. They knew this. They knew the stories. It had been Terrans, millennia ago, that had started the war that would end the most prosperous alliance in all the galaxy, eradicated it from history, allowing Chaos in, inviting it, instead of being victim of it.

 

And even today… these people. Afraid of each other, denying each other aid, drawing lines between each other and calling them nations, building walls.

 

She really hoped they were safe…

 

Another deep sigh escaped her lips, before she proceeded to stand on those aching, trembling, tired knees, turning to her companions, “Well, better get to work then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This would be the point where I think it’s time for me to talk about my criticsm of the Kinmoku/Starlights plot in the original. Cause obviously I’m changing things here a bit and I wanna explain myself ^^;
> 
> So, on Starlights and Kinmoku and Kakyuu: I'm very skeptical of the idea that any Senshi would just LOOSE THEIR PRINCESS... and then have to go looking for her on this very random very specific planet for no apparent reason and ONLY not finding her because, even though she's there, she hides herself for some very weird reason (the reason of course being that the writers had to keep her away cause they couldn't deal with her yet.)
> 
> .... EXCEPT… if they were the ones who SENT HER THERE in the first place, during a moment of crisis. So, they didn’t loose her, they saved her, and because they sent her with all their energy, she’s faster than them, and arriving there first, but they’d know exactly where they need to go, and be persistent in their search on this planet. And, well, her memory just snapped, because she, other than them, travelled so fast that her connection to her planet, and thus, her powers, got capped, so I guess that could be kinda difficult finding her there on this not-random-planet-at-all-anymore. 
> 
> Also... this planet is supposed to be destroyed. Then they go back to restoring it? How is that supposed to work? Do they have energies similar to the Silver Crystal we don't know about that revives the whole thing? And if not, do they just go have sex with each other between *the four of them* to have lots of new babies?!!! (Supposing this were even possible? Realistically you’d need WAY MORE than that for it to work??)... If not that, where are the other survivors they could rebuilt a society with in the first place, and why has nobody ever spoken of them? Just food for thought. And well, you see the route I’m going in that regard. (And yes, 88 people are still too little to repopulate realistically, but, well, they can be both sexes, and are a different species, sooo…)


	18. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that I seemed to have caused some confusion last chapter! My lovely wishwars and kera69love both pointed out the 3 ½ years Seiya mentioned. I’m so sorry guys, that wasn’t supposed to mean they’ve been traveling for 3 ½ years. Wishwars is right, it’s just been a couple months (but way longer than Kakyuu) – it was supposed to mean they haven’t been able to breathe clean air for 3 ½ years, because they’ve been fighting non-stop, and Kinmoku ‘s sky and atmosphere had first been polluted, then destroyed. Chaos had a relatively fast way in, but the fight for it had dragged on, on and off Kinmoku. With it I just meant to establish two things: Those three are TIRED AS FUCK, and time is a relative concept.

L

 

It was more a wall, this time, than individual daimons. A wall of burning, purple goo, much too close to home – near Keio University, back behind the tall, looming skyscraper, that was the local tax office.

 

Usagi could hear Makoto’s comforting roar, as she bulleted masses of thunder right around her toward the enemy. It was strange, sometimes, when Usagi thought how scared of storms she was, mostly, but when Makoto shot lightning bolts right by her face she never was afraid – she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Makoto had it under control, that no spark of hers would ever touch her.

 

They’d been fighting these daimons for what felt like half an hour now. All of them together, for once.

 

Only one attack site, tonight, thank god. It made it so much easier, so much more controllable. And for once, there were absolutely no civilians involved.

 

Easier. Even when it was in walking distance of Juuban, which worried her a lot.

 

They were used to this enemy by now, of course. They knew to keep close to each other, form a protective wall themselves, and not disperse. She could feel Mamoru’s hands on her shoulder, letting his own energy flow into her, to strengthen her.

 

The purple goo started to expand again. It was only a small fraction left, they’d destroyed the rest of it already, and she was sure, if she nailed it this time, really nailed it, it would be over.

 

She closed her eyes to concentrate and started moving, her wand flowing like another limb, and tried to feel into herself, to catch at the core of her energy. She felt Mamoru there, dived deep into her sensations, trying to help her pick out the movements needed to enhance her strength.

 

It worked.

 

“ _Rainbow Moon Heartache!_ ” Usagi yelled, and the biggest blast of energy she’d ever felt started rushing at the goo, melting it. It bubbled and hissed, and drained into the ground.

 

Minako and Makoto erupted into relieved cheers next to her, Mamoru placed his hands back on her shoulder, sighing deeply.

 

Could that have been it, tonight?

 

She had that odd moment, seeing the purple hell-stuff trickling down into the ground, where she almost made out a satisfied, little sigh coming from it. As if she gave it what it wanted, and now it could go to sleep contentedly.

 

She shook her head. Nonsense. She beat it all.

 

She blinked out of it, and looked around. Michiru and Haruka were already leaving, waving their goodbyes, as they hopped into the shadows of the night.

 

Only very little damage this time, and it felt almost too good to be true. Where were the next ones beeping? Could this _really_ have been it, tonight? Could they have been let off so easily, for a change?

 

A bit of asphalt lay broken open, a damaged traffic light that sputtered crackling sparks of electricity where it had been broken off. One, long, stretching acid burn on her own leg, torn fukus, another acid burn on Makoto’s cheek, and Minako’s leg looked a little odd where she’d fallen on it. Here and there a bruise.

 

Mamoru started dealing with the injuries, one by one, starting with her leg. It glowed golden, and in seconds the skin was good as new and smooth, as Mamoru trailed his gloved hands over the patch of skin, stroking it tenderly, as if reassuring himself she was alright, on his knees in front of her. He then turned to the girls, and repeated the glowing, but not the stroking.

 

But she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive, now, every time that he did it, healing all of them, having seen what too much of it could do to him. It was strange, she’d never given it a second thought before, and now she worried at every flick of his hands. But, he seemed completely fine now. Healthy, strong. Completely recovered.

 

They dispersed. Makoto tagged Ami along in both of their directions, Rei did so with Minako. Most of them just mumbled ‘good night’s and ‘see you tomorrow’s, too tired at this hour of the night for much else as they all walked in slightly different directions, so close to home.

 

After a quick look around, Mamoru closed his eyes, and willed the Tuxedo to be replaced with his black skinny jeans and vest, again, and she, too, detransformed, then laced his offered fingers through hers, as they resumed walking.

 

It _was_ the middle of the night, going on 2am. She would be so tired at school, again, tomorrow. And he had needed to study, instead of putting on his mask, tonight. Her room was currently strewn with his textbooks, where he tried to catch up on all the content he’d missed in his classes – at least the ones he _was_ allowed to continue after almost three weeks of absence, and only because his professors knew what a genius he was, but loaded him with extra work to make up for it.

 

Still, the flickering lights of the always-open 7Eleven called to her, beckoning with midnight sweets and snacks, and she heard her stomach growling.

 

Mamoru tugged on her hand, wordlessy understanding her, and turned on his heel, dragging her inside the neon-lit shop.

 

She looked up at him with tired, smiling eyes, and he winked down at her, as they walked through the automatic doors into the blaringly bright light, to the tired greeting of the poor shop boy tending to the till at 2 in the morning. Mamoru headed them straight to the chocolate aisle, and grabbed two bars of her favorite, without saying a word.

 

She turned, grabbed some other snacks at random, when the soft tunes of the song playing on the conbini’s radio made her perk up.

 

‘— _Search for your love, Crystal of the universe. Search for your love, don’t cry for me, Search for your love, the truth is I want to hold you—‘_

 

Her heart skipped a beat. The song was so hauntingly beautiful, the beautiful soft voices of the singers, the soft flow of the saxophone, so melancholy and sweet.

 

“This song again,” she mumbled, lost in thought.

 

Mamoru smiled down at her. “It’s everywhere now, isn’t it? I swear, Chibi-Kiju is obsessed with it.”

 

Usagi smiled. Chibi-Kiju _was_ obsessed with it, indeed. Ever since that song had started playing on every radio station, gone viral online practically overnight, the little girl had sat with wide eyes, claiming they _must_ be singing about her. It was adorable. Ikuko had started filming her whenever the song came on, because they all were so enamored with her reaction.

 

“I know,” Usagi said, giggling into her fist.

 

 _‘—_ _I've been calling out to you – I love you. Where are you now, Moonlight Princess? My Princess, as soon as you can – Answer for me_ —‘

 

“Well,” Mamoru started, draping one arm leisurely over her shoulder, shaking chocolate at her with his other hand, “shall we go home, Moonlight Princess?” he said, winking down at her.

 

Usagi giggled again, as they went to pay for her midnight indulgences.

 

 

L

 

Usagi had trouble keeping her eyes open. They started drooping, all on their own, heavy and almost unstoppable, her breathing deep, as if she were asleep all along.

 

Miss Haruna had called her out on it two times, already, but it was hard, _so_ hard, staying awake.

 

Minako kept kicking her in the shin when her head dropped too low, Minako’s desk was right beside her’s, after all.

 

“You ok?” Minako mouthed over toward her, silently.

 

Usagi just nodded, tiredly.

 

She couldn’t deny though, that she was even more relieved than she usually always was, when the last bell finally rang, and she knew she could go home for a sweet, one hour nap before she’d have to be at Haruka’s.

 

She sent off Minako and Makoto to their clubs, respectively, and shuffled her way out of the building, when a voice stopped her.

 

“Usagi-chan!”

 

Usagi turned around, Naru came running at her, her pretty, auburn hair flowing about her, as she came bounding to a stop in front of her.

 

“Here,” she said, handing out a disc to her, breathing hard, “I forgot to give this to you.”

 

A CD. The cover showed a glittery, flashy logo, and it was signed, no less. The Three Lights’ debut single of Nagareboshi He.

 

“Oh my god, thank you, Naru,” Usagi gushed, accepting it with both hands, and then dug in her bag to give Naru the money for it. She’d forgotten she’d even asked her to get her one, too, for Chibi-Kiju, when Naru had told her she’d planned to stand in line at Tower Records in Shibuya, yesterday, to get hers directly at release.

 

It was the kind of thing Usagi would have immediately accompanied her to go with, in her life before training and daimons and alien refugees.

 

“How was it?” Usagi asked, smiling, falling into step beside Naru, as they ventured out into cloudy, autumn daylight.

 

“You would have LOVED it. They are all so cool, all three of them. Megumi claims Seiya fell head over heels for her at first sight, he was so charming and flirty,” Naru babbled, quick and excited, causing Usagi to giggle. “I can’t wait until their first tour, I swear I’ll be standing in first row, and I _demand_ for you to come with me!”

 

Naru’s eyes were all smiles and laughter, but she faltered at the end. Probably thinking the same thing Usagi thought… It had been a while since she’d had the time to properly hang out with Naru.

 

Usagi set her jaw. Well, that had to change, didn’t it? She’d need to make the time. Somehow.

 

She was about to lift her head and declare it so, when Umino, Megumi in tow, came rushing at them like a tornado.

 

“NEWS! I HAVE NEWS! You won’t _believe_ —“

 

Umino practically fell over his words, clutching at Naru’s elbow, his eyes almost wider than the giant rims of his glasses.

 

“THE THREE LIGHTS!” Megumi yelled.

 

“They’re gonna join our school!!!” Umino continued.

 

Usagi looked back at Naru. She looked like she was ready to faint, and started glaring at Umino in that way she sometimes did, that ‘Don’t mess with me, I _swear_ if you’re pulling my leg, I’ll—‘ way of hers.

 

“No! I swear! It’s the truth!! I just overheard Haruna talking about it, she was as excited as us!” Umino said, holding up his hands in defense.

 

Naru started hopping and giggling then, and Megumi was almost in tears. “How much are you willing to bet he’ll be my boyfriend within the week!” Megumi announced, to which Naru replied with a “He didn’t flirt with you, Megumi, he didn’t!” only to have her eyes widen and exclaim, “Oh my god, do you think they’ll come to my PARTY?!”

 

It was a conversation the old Usagi, too, would have been in the center of. And while this Usagi still was very excited, she was also so tired she could barely stand, and she excused herself, hugging Naru goodbye and leaving them to plot ways Naru could invite an idol pop band that was all the talk, right now, to her birthday party, promising to fill her in, tomorrow.

 

One hour napping. Just one, little hour…

 

She trudged on home, wishing, secretly, Mamoru’s last class got canceled, today, so she could take a nap with him, her feet barely lifting off the ground.

 

It was when she turned into the next street, that she spotted it in the corner of her eye.

 

It was the most magnificent, little, white, six-petaled flower she’d ever seen, with a bright orange crest and little lavender spots, as if someone had shaken out a paint brush over it, growing in the gap between two bricks, high, high above her head on the house across from her. It was shaded by one of the brittle red stones, and wilting.

 

She recognized it. Iris japonica. A special, rare form of Irises native to Japan. Chibi-Kiju had shown it to her excitedly, pointing at the picture in the book Mako-chan had given her with happy eyes, declaring it was the prettiest flower she’d ever seen.

 

And this one was dying, the way it grew, up there.

 

She could feel the fatigue in her skin, drawing her home, begging her to go sleep. But this was Chibi-Kiju’s favorite flower, and she knew she needed to do what the little girl would have done.

 

So, Usagi went up to the house across the street, glaring at the tall apartment building, as she grabbed a hold of the railing of the little ground level balcony, balanced her foot on it, and stretched her arm up to see how far she’d be able to reach.

 

Too small. She’d need another fifteen, maybe twenty centimeters to get at the flower well enough to salvage it, roots and all. She looked around, briefly wondering what she could use to get up, and if she could try to see if someone was there who lived in the house, maybe get a ladder.

 

She eyed the windows briefly, listening for sounds or movement. Nothing.

 

Beyond the railing of the balcony, she saw a little empty canister. She fished for it, and eyed it with a frown. She put it on the ground and stepped on it – robust enough to hold her.

 

She looked at the balcony railing, again. Then at the canister.

 

Right. Good thing Mamo-chan wasn’t here. He’d have a field day over this.

 

With a guilty flinch, she put the canister on the railing, and put her foot on top of it, balancing dangerously, then reached up again. Almost, _almost_ …

 

Ugh. Mamoru would kill her, seeing her perched on a wobbly canister like this, she could practically hear him, scolding her, but what could she do? She stretched up some more, leaning her whole body across the wall, holding on to the side of the building with one hand and that one foot on the canister, but still she was just a tiny fraction too little. She was almost contemplating to transform, get that lift of focused Senshi power to help her just jump up the wall, when…

 

“Oi! Odango!”

 

For just a second Usagi froze, thinking Mamoru had a Usagi’s-doing-risky-shit-radar, and caught her in the act, but then blinked.

 

Not Mamoru. Different voice, no Mamoru tingles.

 

She leant her head back towards the voice. But in doing so, the canister shook a little too much, slipping from beneath her foot and clattering with a loud noise back to the cemented ground of the balcony, causing Usagi, logically, to lose her footing, and she landed with an oomph.

 

Not on her back, though. The owner of said voice had caught her underneath the armpits, stopping her fall.

 

She looked up at him, startled, and he gazed back at her, eyes slightly widened. There was this little moment, where he wet his lips, and looked at her peculiarly, rather intensely, before he shook his head slightly, and started smiling.

 

“Not that I’m not used to see women throw themselves at me, but it’s the first time I see any of you trying to climb walls, first,” the guy said, smirking.

 

Usagi rolled her eyes, and turned.

 

He was pretty, she had to say. Hair the shade of Mamo-chan’s, with a low ponytail swinging behind him, eyes just a tad darker than the midnight blue she was used to looking into, and a raised eyebrow and amused expression that made her scowl.

 

“Right. Funny. Or you could apologize for making me fall, you know?” she said, rolling her eyes, and then turned back to the offending wall, looking back up at the flower.

 

He chuckled, “You’re funny, normally girls like you would be all over the place that they got the chance to fall on me.”

 

Usagi snorted. “Right.”

 

“What,” he said, pointing at himself, “do you not recognize me?”

 

She cocked her head, “Should I?”

 

“Huh,” he said, straightening his back, and then broke into a wide, friendly smile.

 

She went back to touch her hands on the railing, lifting herself up, when the stranger nudged her to the side by the shoulder with the back of his hand.

 

“Wait,” he said. “Let me.”

 

He put his foot exactly where she had, before, but, yes, he _was_ those good fifteen, twenty centimeters taller than her, and reached the flower, easily.

 

“Wait!” she yelped, “don’t pick it, get it out with the…”

 

But he was already back down, holding the flower out to her, carefully cupped between his hands, with the roots fully intact.

 

“…roots,” she finished, lamely. Frowning. “How’d you know to do that?”

 

He raised those amused eyebrows back up again, and she wanted to smack him one for it. “What, how’d I know not to kill a flower? What, do I look like a barbarian?”

 

She pursed her lips, but tenderly took the flower from his hands.

 

“So, mind me asking why you’d risk your neck for it? Are pretty things always calling to you? You could have gotten my attention differently, you know.” he asked, smugly.

 

Again, with the eye-rolling. “It’s my little sister’s favorite, I wanted to save it for her,” she said, nonetheless, with a shrug.

 

He blinked. Looked at her. “Oh.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Well, that’s a nice thing to do.”

 

“Oh.”

 

They stood for a moment. Dumbly. Neither of them saying anything, until Usagi shrugged, and stepped aside.

 

“Well, thank you for the help.”

 

He half smiled down at her, and inclined his head, a little like a bow, but not quite. “You’re welcome, Odango.”

 

She glared at him, for using the nickname, but the way he smirked seemed so cheeky and boyish, it turned into an amused frown, instead. He reminded her of Minako, a little bit. But… why did people _always_ have to use that nickname?

 

“Ja!” he called, over his shoulder, and strode off.

 

Usagi looked after him, for just a moment. _Did_ she know him from somewhere? No…

 

She shook the thought away, with a twitch of her head, and looked down at the fragile petals in her hands. This needed to get back in soil, quickly. And Chibi-Kiju would be delighted, she was sure.

 

And, then, maybe, she still had about half an hour for that nap…

 

L

 

 

With a painful shriek, Hotaru clutched at her head.

 

The images shot at her, like needles piercing her skin, so fast, but feeling like an eternity.

 

Bleeding skies, death coming from golden hands. A woman, long, flowing, orange hair, standing in the midst, crying even when she’d gotten exactly what she wanted, imprisoned in golden plate.

 

She could feel it, bubbling in the ground beneath her, waiting, growing, forming, sighing.

 

For a moment she felt like she could stretch her arm down into the ground, bubbling purple color was waiting for her, embracing her, drowning her.

 

She gasped, it felt like choking, when she came to.

 

She’d been clawing at her throat, so hard she knew her fingernails would have came back bloody, wouldn’t it be for the black leather gloves she wore on her trembling hands – the tremors caused not from fear, but from an energy within her, shaking her, as if trying to break free.

 

There was this moment again, when she was so deathly afraid to lose herself. To something deep within her, something trying to break free.

 

She inhaled, sharply. The pain was only a memory, anymore, but it had drained her. She had trouble getting up from the ground.

 

Around her, although she kept her own gaze strictly to the ground and her feet, a circle of onlookers had formed. Looking at the daily freak show.

 

No one had reached out to help her up.

 

Not that she could blame them. She could still see the accusing eyes of those she had hurt, last week.

 

Her attacks were getting worse. She did stuff, when it happened. And not only to herself, anymore.

 

No, she couldn’t blame them for staying away.

 

Hotaru hurried down the corridor, as fast as her weakened, trembling legs carried her through the vast, tall hallways of Infinity, with downcast eyes and a thumping heart. She ascended the stairs quicker than she should have, stumbling a bit, but landed up at the labs portion of the genetics department.

 

The door she stood in front of, knocking softly, was mostly locked, these days. Mizuno, the name tag read.

 

She knocked again, her other, slightly trembling, gloved hand curling against the frame of the door.

 

“Ami-san isn’t in, today,” a voice to her side said. A tall man, with darkly brimmed glasses.  “Should I leave her a message?”

 

“N-no,” Hotaru said, her voice cracking.

 

She turned, without looking the man in the eye, and hurried back down, and out. Away.

 

No, she couldn’t blame them for staying away. But she hoped her only friend wouldn’t stay away, either.

 

L

 

When Mamoru unlocked the front door of the Tsukino home, he was first met with the mouth-watering smell of curry spices, and something frying in butter, and then with the sound of laughter wafting from the same direction.

 

As if on cue, Usagi, right behind him, started moaning deeply, low, and utterly too sensuously – her normal reaction, when in the presence of food.

 

He chuckled at her, as she leaned a little bit on him while taking off her shoes, the small, low space of the tiled genkan a bit crowded with both of them bent down in it.

 

He rolled his eyes as she, once again, slid her feet into his slippers instead of her own – she was somehow quite in love with his purple slippers with the white masks on it, that she had gotten him in the first place, and now kept stealing, leaving him to wear her frilly, bunny ones – that were just that tiny bit tight on his larger feet.

 

But, oh well, whatever made her happy.

 

He put a hand to his neck and cracked it noisily, as he stretched it to the far left, looking at her, sheepishly, before she even had the chance to throw him a glare. He knew she hated it when he cracked his bones.

 

It had been a long day. Classes were hard this week, with all the extra credit he had to do, now, to still pass them, and Michiru had insisted on throwing in a new dance style, now that he was well enough to train again. Or more, a dance and combat hybrid – Capoeira. He kind of regretted ever having complained about the breakdance. In comparison to this it had been child’s play.

 

So, instead of walking the short seven minute distance to the metro station, they’d both been so utterly kaput from training, that they took the bus instead. And because it was crowded and only had one seat left, Usagi had sat on his lap, the back of her head thrown back to lie on his shoulder, earning angry looks from everyone around them, as this wasn’t exactly becoming for Japanese etiquette. But he’d been, quite frankly, too tired to care.

 

As they’d left, Michiru and Haruka had been headed down to Hikawa shrine. They had managed to make three more apartments available in their skyrises, already, and were now on their way to tell the Kinmokuans, give them the choice to disperse a little more, and maybe even to start talking further integration, like schools and community clubs, or at least a slow start of it.

 

It was all, to be completely honest, nothing Mamoru had ever thought he might be in the middle of deciding, once again. It was the kind of conversations Endymion had held; talking about housing and integration, promoting individual talents and making chances available. Not Mamoru.

 

He stepped into the dining room, where Shingo was already setting the table, Chibi-Kiju was fluttering about excitedly, and ended up face to face with Minako. She went a little stiff, but he was happy when she didn’t run, and instead relaxed, when she greeted Usagi, instead. He’d pretty much given up ever talking to her about that night she’d made him do what he couldn’t have done without her, the one she seemed to blame herself for. But… he wasn’t going to force her. It was her decision. 

 

Chibi-Kiju happily bounded up to Usagi, holding out a little, extraordinarily beautiful flower that he hadn’t seen, before, white with orange and lavender spots, showing Usagi the potted thing proudly, just as Ikuko came from the kitchen, with big, steaming bowls of tempura, and he went into the kitchen, greeting Makoto absentmindedly, to go and help carry out what smelled like the feasts of all feasts.

 

“—already prepared a big batch of curry for Hikawa tomorrow, it’s in containers in the freezer, you’ll just have to heat it in time,” he caught Makoto’s last stands of conversation.

 

“Did you double the amount this time?” Ikuko asked.

 

Makoto nodded.

 

Ikuko smiled, and then nodded, apprehensively. “Well, I’ll see how well I’ll be able to carry all that tomorrow, then,” she said, her head inclined.

 

“Well,” Mamoru chimed in, and both eyes turned to him. “Since I absence-failed out of my midday class, I’ve got an open slot. I can bring the whole batch over tomorrow, if Kenji lends me the car?”

 

Mamoru raised his voice a bit for the last part, to be heard across in the dining room, where Kenji already sat, right next to his daughter, with his nose buried in newspaper, grunting his assent.

 

“Right. Perfect. We do that, then,” Makoto hummed approvingly, as she handed Mamoru the big bowl of soba, and proceeded out of the kitchen, with the steamed veggies.

 

Minako shook her head at them, as they came out, filling the dining table with food that Usagi was practically drooling over.

 

“So,” Minako started, as she withdrew her chair from the table and plopped down on it. “This bum here,” she said, pointing her thumb at Mamoru, but talking to Ikuko, “You guys don’t care he’s secretly moved in with you?”

 

Shingo snorted. “It’s not that big of a secret, is it? I mean he fixes things around the house, and has his own shelf in the bathroom.”

 

Mamoru glowered at Minako. “I don’t live here,” he said, slightly annoyed.

 

It was Makoto and Ikuko, who both replied at the same time, “Of course you do, honey.”

 

Kenji guffawed, and Mamoru rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite hide a little smile. He was well aware of the fact, of course, that nobody in this house was under the pretense anymore that he was ever NOT here. He’d talked to Kenji about it one time, too. And he’d just shrugged, telling him he and Ikuko were well aware that Usagi would move out with him the minute he would choose to suggest it, or at least after she graduated, and both her parents were prepared to enjoy the time they still had both of them around, and where they could see they were in one piece, and not some monster’s latest meal. That had been last year, and the last anyone had ever spoken about the matter of his, or his toothbrush’s, presence in this house.

 

And, when he looked around the full table, the girls joking, Chibi-Kiju sighing happily on her piece of tempura, whispering ‘Itadakimasu’ to it, plus counting the fact he knew Ami to be still be working with the cats downstairs, he wasn’t the only one this open Tsukino invitation applied to.

 

It was a good day.

 

One that, if one took into account the somersaults his girlfriend’s happy feels suddenly made, only just got better, when Mako-chan announced she also had a cake in the fridge, leftover from her baking club at school, today.

 

She brought it out, immediately, on Usagi’s command, a sinfully luscious chocolate and cream deal.

 

“The third in a row?” Ikuko asked incredulously. “How am I supposed to keep my weight, honey?”

 

Minako mouth opened in appalled shock “Oh shoo!!” she practically yelled at Ikuko. “Am I hearing food demonizing?” she glowered, hands in her hips, and started a whole, long speech, one he’d heard countless times before in her presence, about this being their only life (quite ironically untrue, of course), and they should indulge in it, and how curves were a glorious, sexy thing, and how could she ever say such a thing.

 

Even Shingo had heard it so often, he just rolled his eyes and stabbed another piece of tempura with his chopsticks.

 

“Tell me one bad thing that comes from eating to your heart’s desire,” Minako said, challengingly.

 

“Needing to buy new clothes,” Mako answered, as she began slicing the cake, and Ami came in through the front door, for Shingo’s sake, waving around the table, and pretending she’d only just arrived.

 

“Pah!” Minako said, gesticulating wildly with her chopsticks. “Nothing more glorious than shopping. Next one.”

 

“Diabetes,”Ami deadpanned, with a straight face, as she sat at the table, while Shingo eagerly loaded up a plate of soba for her.

 

“Pfft.” Minako shook the comment off her shoulder with a roll of her eyes, and Usagi had to giggle next to him, and she probably loved her all the more for it.

 

In doing so, she managed to practically bathe her face in cake, of course, causing Mamoru to laugh and rub cake off her face with his thumb, and Shingo to groan in annoyance, as he started comparing her to Chibi-Kiju, who sat eating her slice of cake, daintily, like a little bird, not a speck on her.

 

“Wait!!!” Usagi exclaimed, ignoring her brother absolutely, and ran from the dinner table, spewing cake crumbs.

 

She appeared back in a second. “Tadaaaa!” she sing-songed, holding up a disc triumphantly. “Who’s the best sister in the world?”

 

Shingo raised a _very_ skeptical eyebrow.

 

But Chibi-Kiju started squealing when she read – yes, this particular, strange 4 year-old alien could read – the name printed across the disc Usagi was holding.

 

“It’s even signed!” Usagi said, as she handed the little the disc, who looked at is as though she’d been handed the holy grail, and clutched it to her heart.

 

“But, Chibi-chan, you haven’t heard the best, yet,” Minako said conspiratorially, and then lowered her voice, and spoke with her hand held in front of her mouth, as if she were telling the little girl the biggest kind of secret. “They’re gonna join our class.”

 

“WHAT?!” Shingo bellowed, causing Usagi to snicker and sing-song, ‘Shingo is a secret boyband faaaan’, to which Shingo mumbled, incomprehensibly, and blushed, then said, “Umm, I mean. Whatever.”

 

But little Chibi-Kiju looked so excited, she might as well faint.

 

Mamoru chuckled, and once again glanced around the table. This was perfection.

 

This was home. This was family.

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, obviously, you know the song I used in this chapter. Nagareboshi He, the Three Lights song. The translation I used was the one from Miss Dream, and all of those of you who don’t happen to own the original soundtracks, you can also listen to it on youtube, should you want to! ^^


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo… You guys remember episode 174, right? The one where the Three Lights join their class? Well, I love that episode. And besides the obvious things, like Ami not being a student of Juuban High in this, I really didn’t want to change that joining-of-the-class scene. So, I didn’t. Just keep that scene in mind, that is basically how it happened, I’m not gonna elaborate on it too much ;)
> 
> Thank you to UglyGreenJacket, who not only gave this her loving editing skills, as she always does, but listened to me ramble on and on about the plotting of it, patiently, as I hit a little writer’s block on it, in the middle of the night.
> 
> This chapter was a little hard on me, so in the end, I incorporated a few bits and pieces from a writing prompt on tumblr for it, to make it flow a little more. Let me know what you think of all of it, pleaaase?

L

 

“He’s a bit of a show-off, to be honest?” Usagi said, with her mouth full, munching on her doughy, conbini meat bun, that they had gotten on the way, earning a few looks from passer-bys, seeing as eating on the street wasn’t really something you were supposed to do in Japan, as well as talking while you did. “Like, dunking a basketball here, going into that football match there… Seems a bit indecisive, too… like… _pick one_.”

 

Mamoru snorted, both their bags hanging from his shoulder, as they made their way to Haruka’s skyrise, already visible behind a smaller building around the corner.

 

“You don’t think he was just trying to impress you?”

 

Usagi scrunched up her nose. “Why would he?”

 

Mamoru threw her an amused look, when she didn’t get what he was implying, and then shook his head, smiling into the distance.

 

“Like,” she continued, a bit of dough crumbling onto her uniform, which she picked off with a careful pinch and then ate, anyway, “I spent all my precious break that I had with Minako, before training, on showing that guy around, so he can be kicked off the field?”

 

He inclined his head to her, sideways. “Why did you?”

 

“Minako insisted,” she said, and rolled her eyes at the memory, before continuing. “But I guess he seems ok underneath all that boasting. I just wish he wouldn’t call me that.”

 

Mamoru threw her a half-smile he _knew_ was entirely too smug. “I still call you Odango, too, sometimes…”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “I _know_ ,” she said, her voice dripping exasperation. “But… even if I don’t like it, it’s reserved for _you_. It’s got history.”

 

He chuckled, low, as they turned the next corner.

 

“So, was this before or after Minako made you take all those pictures?” he asked.

 

“Oh no, the club-showing was yesterday, the pictures were today. Oh, and also…” she turned to him, with a glare, that looked as if a little kitten was about to tell you something exasperatingly frustrating and scandalous, and he had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling at her, again, “…like, he didn’t join _any_ of those clubs!”

 

“Well, he’s a pop idol.” He shrugged. “I don’t think he’d have the time to join a club.”

 

“Well, then why does he insist I show him around?” she said, her voice a little whiny, as she crumbled the paper of her meat bun in her hands, and put it in the pocket of her school skirt.

 

Mamoru threw her a pointed look again. She looked back at him, utterly confused. She didn’t get it, even when he raised his eyebrow, imploringly.

 

“Anyway,” she shrugged, “you’ll meet him. Naru has successfully invited him to her party.”

 

Right. Naru’s party. Next week. He almost forgot about that.

 

“So,” he started, “did he agree before or after you dropped that you’d be going, too?”

 

Usagi blinked at him. “After... Why’s that relevant?”

 

Mamoru smirked, and shook his head. “Just asking,” he said, with an amused gleam in his eyes, as they approached the door, and Usagi hit the bell button that read ‘Tennoh/Kaioh’.

 

L

 

Ami ran outside with a pounding heart, Athena’s voice whispering to her through the earpiece in her earring.

 

 _Here_. Right _here_ – at Infinity.

 

Her stomach was in knots, downright painful. She could feel the phantom pain in her arm and leg, right where it had been fractured the previous times they had fought the purple daimon goo.

 

She ran, blindly. She didn’t stop to transform, first. Assess the danger, first. Strategy, first.

 

Not Minako’s, Haruka’s, or Makoto’s way with dealing, they’d have yelled at her for it, but… it was how she worked. Think first, act later.

 

She ran as fast as her legs carried her, her lab coat flying in coils behind her. What were the chances? She was so rarely here, in the afternoons after classes, these days. Had cut down so many of her hours. That it would appear here, now?

 

She pushed through the heavy glass double doors. A throng people had gathered in front of the stairs.

 

She trailed to a stop. Confused. Irritated.

 

No purple goo to be seen.

 

Instead, right outside, where Athena had detected hostile forces, stood two women.

 

No, not women, exactly. Not _only_ women.

 

Two Senshi. There was no two ways about it. The uniforms, though strange, and the air about them, their aura. These were _Senshi_.

 

One of them, slightly taller than the other, with flowing copper red hair and dark skin, sprouted magnificent black wings. Her fuku was the color of her hair, laced up in the front. The other was as fair as the first was dark, skin so light it was almost translucent, shining through thigh-high stockings and almost as white as the heels she wore, her slightly longer fuku as light blue as her hair and her eyes, which looked cooler than anything Ami had ever seen, and that ran a shiver down her spine.

 

Ami faltered. She was about to transform, to call out. But something held her back. Instead, she tried to weave inconspicuously through the crowd that had formed, training their smartphone cameras at the woman with the wings. Get nearer, _listen_.

 

“—Are you _sure_?” the darker one said, almost annoyed.

 

“Of course, I’m sure. Don’t you trust me? That beacon must have been Senshi. I feel it. There is Senshi energy, right here. It bubbles right from the ground, everywhere. Don’t you feel it?” she said, quickly, inhaling deeply as if smelling the air around her.

 

The light one’s voice was nasal, high-pitched, melodic, and very, very frightening.

 

“I feel nothing,” she said, looking around, at the loud mass of bystanders. In the far back Ami could hear sirens approaching.

 

Ami froze as the darker ones gaze met hers, eyes narrowing slightly.

 

“— Imagine Galaxia’s reaction, when we tell her we randomly found a bunch of Star Seeds just _calling_ out into the galaxy—“

 

And then the light one trailed off as well, meeting Ami’s gaze.

 

She started smiling. Icy, light blue eyes turning even colder.

 

“Lookie, here, Sailor Lead Crow. There just might be one right here,” she sneered, her eyes not wavering from Ami’s.

 

Ami froze, and before she could move, before she could even blink, the dark one, Sailor Lead Crow, had cracked her long, black, leathery whip, and with a flick of the Senshi’s wrist she encased Ami in it, and pulled her forward, hard.

 

A terrified scream broke through the air. For a second Ami thought it was her own voice, the terror she felt running free, just that it wasn’t.

 

It was Hotaru. She broke from the crowd, howling, running toward Ami, _glowing_.

 

And suddenly, the terror Ami felt doubled.

 

 _No_. Hotaru _cannot_ be triggered. If—

 

The lighter Senshi looked as if were her lucky day, while Hotaru screamed, enraged, teeth blaring as she ran at Sailor Lead Crow. Her eyes started shining, the deepest black Ami had ever seen, a purple glow starting to surround her, lifting her hair –

 

And then, snapping.

 

It was quiet, yet somehow it broke through all the noise.

 

“ _STAR SERIOUS LASER_ ”

 

Ami only saw a black shadow, and then a ring of light, at the end of a black gloved hand, coalescing into a pooled burst of energy at its fingertips, before it shot at the Senshi.

 

And another one, immediately.

 

“ _STAR SENSITIVE INFERNO_ ”

 

This one cracked. Blue, green, like electrical discharge as it hit the whip. The energy traveled to the Senshi, causing Sailor Lead Crow to scream in agony, but also to Ami.

 

She trembled, paralyzed, her mouth open in a silent scream, before she felt two hands grab her, lift her.

 

“ _No_!” Ami yelled, looking frantically to where Hotaru had just been.

 

Hotaru lay on the ground, seemingly unconscious, knocked away from the blast that had hit the two Senshi.

 

Ami scrambled to her feet, and to Hotaru, knocking away the hands of the person who had saved her. High, black, slick, shining boots. Long brunette ponytail.

 

She slid the last meter to her on her knees, her fingers pressing to Hotaru’s throat as if magnetic.

 

Ami held her breath for a moment, until she felt it.

 

 _Ba-dump, ba-dump_. Alive.

 

Behind her, she could see the light blue Senshi, as she cradled Sailor Lead Crow, writhing in agony, in her arms, glaring hard at the Senshi who had hit her.

 

“You will pay for this,” she hissed, and with a glimmer of light, she disappeared, along with the copper red-haired cargo she was holding in her arms.

 

Ami’s heart was beating wildly. She barely noticed the flashlights, the way the screaming crowd had dispersed around her, running for safety. Chaotically, disordered, panicked.

 

She only noticed the three Senshi in front of her. All of them in black latex, all of them with low, long ponytails.

 

They looked back at her, and then each other, before they turned to jump away.

 

“ _Wait!_ ” Ami screamed.

 

One of them turned around, slightly. The brunette. The one who had saved her.

 

“What is this? Who was this?” Ami yelled, speaking too quickly, the words running together.

 

“Prepare yourself,” the Senshi said, as she turned back to leave. Her voice was low, but gentle.

 

 _No_. They couldn’t leave. Ami needed information; she needed to sort this out—

 

She yelled the first thing she could think of. The beacon. These two, hostile Senshi had spoken of the beacon.

 

“KINMOKU?!!” Ami howled after them, as loud as her voice carried.

 

It caused them to falter. Turn back at her with wide, fearful eyes. And then at each other.

 

They jumped into the trees, and away.

 

Ami blinked. _No_.

 

“ _Ami!!_ ”

 

She heard the yell, but couldn’t focus. Only when Minako started shaking her, did she blink out of it.

 

“What _happened_?”

 

She blinked again, her vision sharpening. Minako. Right. She’d called for backup on her communicator, right after Athena had blared her alarm. Minako must have been the first to arrive.

 

“I… I’m not sure,” Ami frowned.

 

It was a feeling she altogether hated.

 

L

 

“So,” Luna started, perched on Usagi’s shoulder, “we have five new Senshi. Two of them confirmed hostile, no status on the other three.”

 

“They’re good,” Usagi mumbled.

 

Luna sighed. It seemed a little frustrated. “You cannot know this, Usagi-chan.”

 

“They helped Ami-chan, didn’t they???” she said, a bit annoyed, as she descended the long staircase down from the Hikawa shrine, crickets stridulating all around them.

 

“You can’t assume these things, Usagi-chan. We know too little about this Galaxia to know what we’re dealing with—“

 

Usagi sighed, and Luna quieted.

 

It had been a few days since Ami was attacked, and nothing had happened since. No sign of these new Senshi. It unnerved them all a bit. Or rather, quite a lot. Nothing was as frustrating as being alert without effect, but knowing that boom is still to come.

 

Ami had been a madwoman ever since, interrogating the Kinmokuans, trying to piece all of it together. So far, they were fairly certain they were dealing with what the Kinmokuans called the Sailor Starlights. The ones who had saved them. Star Fighter, Star Maker, Star Healer. They were the Senshi of Kinmoku.

 

But, the Kinmokuans had said, the other side were Senshi as well. Corrupted, tainted, brainwashed. Evil. They couldn’t, to Ami’s assurance, be one hundred percent sure what happened to those Starlights after the Kinmokuans last saw them. The last time they had seen them, they had been attacked by Galaxia. They might have been turned, too, Luna kept saying.

 

“Galaxia… “ Usagi tried the name out on her tongue. Luna perked up.

 

“Eh?”

 

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

 

Usagi turned around a corner, making way for a woman on her bike.

 

What those hostile Senshi wanted, the Kinmokuans hadn’t known. They’d been there one day, and then everything had started to end. Everything had started to burn, some time after that. However, Ami had a theory. Pieced together from snippets of a conversation she’d overheard, and the data of all those destroyed planets in the galaxy. Star Seeds, the two hostile Senshi had talked about.

Essence of a Senshi. If you possessed the Star Seed, you possessed the Senshi’s power. The person around it could die, but the Star Seed was eternal.

 

Usagi didn’t understand the concept altogether, no matter how often Ami tried to explain it. It sounded wrong and horrible to her. All she was, confined within her Silver Crystal? Or just her power? Was she just a vessel to it? Replaceable?

 

And was this the same threat as the purple slime of hell, or was it something altogether different? Ami thought it was…

 

“You really need to be careful, Usagi-chan. Alert,” Luna said, in that nagging voice she sometimes had.

 

Usagi nodded, thoughtful.

 

“Luna?”

 

The cat perked her little ears as Usagi slowed down, looking at her feet.

 

“Do you think we matter?” Usagi asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

 

Luna raised herself up on her little paws, so she was a little taller. “Of course you do!” she said, her little voice sounding surprised. “You’re the most important person in the universe!”

 

Usagi pursed her lips. Not what she wanted to hear. Not what she wanted to get at. Especially right now, with Minako, Haruka and Michiru all harking on about her protection, now that there apparently were people on the loose, which were out for all their powers.

 

“I don’t mean the Silver Crystal,” Usagi pressed out with a glare. “I don’t mean Serenity.”

 

Luna looked at her sympathetically.

 

“I mean Usagi. Unimportant Usagi. Are our lives completely negligible? Our normal, daily, human lives?” she asked, and Luna cocked her head to the side.

 

 It didn’t feel right. And somehow it did. It was very, very confusing to Usagi. She liked the feeling of being unimportant. She just didn’t want to be replaced.

 

“Is this about wanting to go to that party again?”

 

Usagi rolled her eyes. No, it actually wasn’t. But now that Luna _mentioned_ it…

 

“I’m _going_ to this party,” Usagi huffed. “We talked about this. We’re normal people, too. We need friends. Besides, I promised Naru.”

 

“Do you really think that’s wise? With _another_ threat on the way? One that specifically targets Senshi?” Luna said. Her voice had that patronizing tone again. The one that drove Usagi up the wall.

 

“Ami’s staying behind and guarding the surveillance,” Usagi recited. Plus, Ami didn’t like parties, so… They had talked about this. At length. They’d all carry their communicators on their wrists at all times. And _should_ something happen – Osaka-san’s place was like right around the corner. “What does it matter if I react from there or from sitting at home, a bored social outcast because all my friends forget about me?”

 

Luna sighed. “Don’t be so dramatic, Usagi-chan.”

 

Usagi huffed.

 

Usagi turned a corner, and strode right into the conbini. Matcha and two cartons of milk, her mother had texted.

 

Luna quieted immediately, and dove into Usagi’s shoulder bag, as Usagi greeted the shop boy. Plump, a few pimples, nice smile. One of her favorites, he was always so very nice.

 

She dumped the milk and the matcha in her little grey shopping basket, and Luna meowed in annoyance when she didn’t go to the till, but the snack aisle instead.

 

Piling a few packets in her basket, she then held one up in her hand, as she turned to the till, finally.

 

The packaging was sleek, black. Like latex. She turned it around in her hand. “I really wonder who those three are? Maybe we know them?” She said, to Luna, obviously, though to onlookers it looked as though she were talking to herself.

 

And just then, looking at the foil packaging, instead of where she was going, she smacked right into someone.

 

“Ow!” they yelped, just as Luna meowed rather too loudly – she’d squished her shoulder bag between them.

 

“I’m so sor—“

 

Usagi looked up into the very annoyed and grumpy face of her classmate. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was glaring at her bag.

 

“Yaten-kun! I’m so sorry!”

 

He just kept glaring. Behind him, Usagi could see Taiki.

 

Luna shuffled noisily in her bag, and Yaten narrowed his eyes further, yet.

 

“There’s a cat in your bag,” he said, that glare firmly in place, eyes boring into hers accusingly, as he nodded straight behind her.

 

The ‘No Pets Allowed’ sign, right behind her, to be exact. She didn’t need to look, she knew that sign.

 

She blushed, and pushed past him. Taiki shot her an apologetic look, with a slight cringe, just as Yaten stalked after her.  

 

“Will you stop this?” Usagi hissed. “I’m gonna get caught!”

 

But Yaten didn’t listen to her, instead he grabbed her bag from her shoulder.

 

“Hey!” Usagi yelled, as Yaten looked into it.

 

She knew the sight he’d see inside, of course. Her adorable little baby of a kitten. Luna with her angelic face, looking up out from between her work-out clothes and amongst her notebooks.

 

Usagi would have started snorting and laughing at the look on his face, if she weren’t so mad at him right now. The cheek!

 

But as Usagi fumed, Yaten kept staring dumbly into her bag, and Usagi had to giggle, after all.

 

He looked like he’d just pretty much fallen in love.

 

She cradled the bag from underneath, so as to not squish Luna, as she extracted it from underneath Yaten’s grip. His hands followed her dumbly.

 

“What’s her name?” he asked. And Usagi swore it was the first time she’d seen his face so… relaxed? Friendly? Something in the middle of those.

 

“Luna,” she said, smiling softly.

 

“Luna,” he repeated, with a wondrous tone. “What a nice name.”

 

Usagi smiled at him, cocking her head sideways, when he cleared his throat, turned, and waved, awkwardly.

 

“Bye,” Taiki said, nodding, and followed behind.

 

“Huh,” she said, and then looked into her bag. Luna sat there, shrugging her little shoulders. Cute as a button.

 

L

 

Having fought himself through a horde of his fellow schoolmates, mostly female, Seiya sat down at his chosen bench for today’s lunch. It was a bit secluded. He normally didn’t mind the ruckus about him – he actually enjoyed it, even, at least most of the time – but, he wasn’t in the mood for it today.

 

He picked, absentmindedly, at the cucumber in his sandwich, as he gazed in front of him.

 

Usagi and her friends, the blond one with the red bow and the tall auburn haired one, sat in the grass, all eating from the tall girl’s bento box, talking in low voices.

 

He had to smile when Usagi gesticulated wildly, and made a face like she’d be sick, that was strangely adorable, when the tall girl held out a test to her with a big, fat, red 30 on it.

 

Today’s math test. He’d flunked it, too.

 

“You’re staring at her, again.”

 

Seiya nearly jumped out of his skin, he hadn’t noticed Yaten sit down next to him. He was speaking with his mouth full. Yaten, obviously – and other than him –seemed to actually like Taiki’s cucumber sandwiches.

 

Seiya pursed his lips, but couldn’t keep the blush away. “No? I’m not?...” He cleared his throat and shook his head, while crossing his arms across his chest. “I mean… I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

 

“Right…” Yaten said, his tone and demeanor coming across as absolutely and utterly bored – ‘normal face’, for Yaten. “My bad,” Yaten continued, with a scoff. “Of course, you aren’t. I mean, what would anyone ever see in that girl?”

 

Seiya practically pounced on him, annoyed. “Excuse me?” he bit. “Have you _seen_ the way she makes everyone around her smile?”

 

Yaten raised one eyebrow, waiting, his look slowly turning smug.

 

Right. Seiya couldn’t believe he fell for that. He tightened his hold across his chest, his arms, crossed, digging into his sides, when Yaten finally couldn’t hold back the self-satisfied smirk.

 

“Oh shut up,” Seiya mumbled, blushing again.

 

Yaten held up his hands, expression still tremendously amused, shaking them as if to say, ‘I’m not saying anything, am I?’

 

Seiya scowled at him, but not before Yaten wordlessly relieved Seiya of his cucumber sandwich, and proceeded to devour it in big gulps.

 

“Well,” Yaten said, barely audible over his chewing, “what _do_ you see in her?”

 

Seiya, sheepishly, looked back towards Usagi. She was giggling, moving a little sausage which was shaped like a little kraken in front of her face, pretending it was talking in her stead.

 

He couldn’t even really put his finger on it. But… she was _good_. Everything about her screamed kindness… it was almost reassuring to him, after all the hate he had seen for so long. It almost made him believe again… That not everything in the universe might be doomed to fall under the thrall of Galaxia’s dark energy. That not everyone might be corruptible.

 

And then, there was something else about her, that he simply couldn’t put his finger on.

 

But…

 

He shrugged, awkwardly, glancing sideways at Yaten and then back toward Usagi. “You wouldn’t understand.”

 

It was Yaten’s turn to shrug. And, of course, Seiya knew that the nonchalance wasn’t an act. Yaten simply really didn’t care about it all that much, in the end.

 

It hadn’t always been like that, of course. In fact, Yaten had cared a lot, at one time, about everything and anything. But war and loss had stripped him of this, leaving him cynical, angry, jaded and uninterested, only the care and love Yaten felt for their princess remaining. His hope. _Their_ hope. And he was simply too scarred, and wary, to emotionally invest himself in this new world, that might just as well be Galaxia’s next target, for all they knew. 

 

Seiya sighed, looking back at the way Usagi pouted when the tall one’s bento box was empty. Her world might be next… at least it looked like it, judging from the incident with the Sailor Animamates, the other day. This pure, kind, innocent, unsuspecting girl might lose everything as well, everyone she loved, everything she held dear.

 

“We don’t have time for this, you know that, right?” Yaten said, his tone now serious. “For silly crushes, and accepting silly invitations to silly high school parties? And last week? Pretending you have time for club activities? Have her show you around? What was that about? Just to talk to her, or what?”

 

Seiya exhaled audibly, and felt his stomach growling. “Don’t we?” he asked. “Can’t we? Where are we gonna go?” he continued. They were only ever planning for their next step, find Kakyuu, but… where were they going to go? This was, most probably, their last stop. They should start caring about this world, too…

 

Seiya swallowed. “Kinmoku is…”

 

Yaten’s face grew dark, immediately.

 

Right.  Nothing they ever talked about – about their options. That they hadn’t found any of theirs, yet, and how alarming that was. And that they would probably have to hide here, forever. Or as long until Galaxia destroyed this world, too, should she get her hands on it.

 

That they were rootless, now.

 

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go ! ^^ Let me know what you think, please?


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, this chapter came to me A LOT easier. Mostly thanks to your AMAZING reviews. I mean it. They made me wanna go write write write, so thank you guys for that?!
> 
> I hope you’ll like this chapter as much, and the meeting of Mamoru and Seiya. I tried to make it as perfect as I possibly could, with the diligent help of my wonderful beta UglyGreenJacket.
> 
> Again, just like Naru’s last party in Ikigai, here’s a warning. To most of you [American readers], this chapter will contain underage drinking. But keep in mind that I’m german, and we’re allowed to drink from the age of 16, writing in the setting of a culture where alcohol isn’t the taboo it is in other places, either. So, since our characters are all 17 here, and Mamoru 20 (so of legal age in Japan), I’m writing nothing here that would be illegal from my german point of view ;)
> 
> So, on we go with the party, and pleaaaase let me know what you thought of it? (I mean it, your reviews are my NUMBER ONE BY FAR motivator to go on writing, and to do it faster!)

“Seiya!! Seiya, won’t you daaance with me?” one girl, whose name he had already forgotten, again, sing-songed, and then others joined in the chorus of his name.

 

He winked at them. “Later, I promise,” he shouted, a little loudly, to be heard over the music, and then weaved himself out of the group and accidentally into the next, on his way into the kitchen.

 

“Seiya!! Will you take a selfie with us?” a boy with big rimmed glasses asked, pulling at his sleeve. This one he recognized. Umino.

 

“Sure.” He smiled, and sighed a little, as the boy angled the phone in front of them, the little, sweet auburn-haired hostess of this party right beside them, smiling shyly as she said a quiet, “Thank you, Seiya.”

 

He nodded, and then winked at her, as well. “Of course,” but then, finally, made his way back into the kitchen to get another drink.

 

Getting back into the kitchen had taken him about five minutes, though it was right beside the big room that hosted the bulk of this party, and dozens of string and neon lights that blinked rhythmically to the pop-y music. It was everything he’d hoped for. Cheerful, bubbly, happy, _normal_. But still he’d flinched when they’d played their song once they’d arrived.

 

He really didn’t like that song all that much. It wasn’t musically challenging at all, all it did was convey a message, packed into the mundane poppy recipe that this generation of human teenagers would enjoy most.

 

Plus, it reminded him that he really should be somewhere else, doing something else, than hang out at the birthday party of one of his classmates.

 

Yaten appeared from the other side of that apartment. Glaring at him, daring him to explain, again, what they were doing here.

 

“Yaten!!” a cheery girl, blonde, bubbly, red bow, called. One of Odango’s friends. The loud one.

 

Seiya could only pull him by the arm, turn him so the girl wouldn’t see the full show of Yaten’s exaggerated, show-y groan.

 

Seiya really didn’t know why he’d dragged Yaten to this party. Seiya had wanted to go, yes, he’d wanted to connect, meet these people, here. In a normal way – not the screaming and fainting type like he’d met seemingly every other girl on this planet, yet. A normal get-together of friends.

 

He missed having friends… Normal, everyday connections.

 

He shut his eyes for a brief second. Willing back the images of all the people they had lost. He couldn’t think of this. He wouldn’t.

 

So, instead he turned to the girl. Willing on what he did best: Flirty, charming. Distracting.

 

Seiya took a moment talking to the blonde girl, though this time he tried to stay an arm’s length away – he still remembered quite vividly the photo session she’d made Usagi take the other day, trying to seem like his girlfriend to sell the photos to the press.

 

She had gall, he had to hand it to her. And she was quite funny, anyway. Even Yaten thought so, no matter how rude he acted. It showed in the way he turned to her, after all, kept talking to her instead of just stomping off without a word.

 

But, she was called away quite quickly. Though, not before promising Yaten some scandalous things when she returned, who turned back to him with both eyebrows raised.

 

Seiya chuckled, and shrugged.

 

Of course, he knew they had better things to do. But… here they were. At Osaka Naru’s party, with a weird bouncy mattress in the living room, lots of girls fawning about him and his scowling, rude example of a “brother”.

 

“So, you drag me all this way to this boring party, and she’s not even here?” Yaten said, his whole stance screaming irritation.

 

Seiya sighed, and thrust a drink into Yaten’s hand.

 

This, Yaten seemed to appreciate. And he had to say he found the drinks here peculiarly arousing, himself. They felt warm, going down, and made his head feel a little funny. Taiki had talked about alcohol, before. This must be it, then.

 

At least it made Yaten a little less irritating, and a little less rude to the people at this party, as long as he kept filling his glass in regular intervals.

 

He really, really did not want to feel that jump his heart did, when the ruckus in the living room got a little louder.

 

“USAGIII!” a rather substantial group of voices called, cheerfully.

 

He couldn’t help the smile it produced on him. It was quite strange, the way Usagi almost got the same excited greeting they had one upon arrival – this little blonde pile of sunshine inspiring almost as much cheer as an idol boy band.

 

Everyone loved the girl. Everyone did.

 

He had to force himself to stay rooted to the spot. Not to walk back into the room just to see that blinding smile immediately.

 

He shook his head, and set his jaw.

 

Yaten, beside him – what an _ass_ – smirked at him openly, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

 

“Shut up,” Seiya said, and poured himself a drink, as well.

 

He turned slightly with a start when a tall guy walked in, carrying a big, heavy-looking box filled with various bottles in it under his arm, as though it was filled with dandelions instead. A few girls greeted him by name with waves beside Seiya.

 

Seiya did a little double take. The guy was easily the most attractive man he’d ever seen. Dark hair that fell into his eyes, slender, tall frame.

 

“So, you’re the alcohol express, tonight, Mamoru-kun?” a girl laughed that stood at the fridge, right beside Seiya. She had a short stature, kinda bubbly, and was also auburn haired, with a high ponytail. He remembered her. She’d asked for a selfie, before, as well.

 

The guy shrugged with a smirk, as he bent slightly to give her half a hug with the arm that wasn’t carrying heavy things, “Downside of being twenty, now?” he said, chuckling, before adding a quick, “Hi, Unazuki”, and setting down the big box right next to Seiya.

 

Another girl turned up. Long, black, silky hair. The one with the rather arrogant attitude. Naru had introduced her to him as Rei. To him, she wasn’t arrogant at all. Instead, she leaned up and whispered something to him that he couldn’t hear, that made him nod and say something back, just as low, before she disappeared back out the room.

 

Another guy, blonde, shaggy hair, turned to greet the newcomer, and bumped into the table. The box started wobbling dangerously and Seiya jumped to steady it, but the dark haired guy was quicker. With crazy fast reflexes he’d caught the box before it had a chance to topple.

 

“Sorry,” he said toward Seiya, who stood with outstretched hands, although he wasn’t the one who’d run into the table.

 

Seiya put on a smile, as charming as he could. “No worries,” he said.

 

The guy stuck out his hand. “Chiba Mamoru,” he said.

 

“Seiya,” he replied, and wondered a little when Mamoru’s eyes flickered for a brief second, before he nodded and smiled, and turned back to his box.

 

Yaten’s eyes grew rather large as the guy started unpacking bottle after bottle, settling it on the table right in front of both of them.

 

“Sooo,” Yaten said. “I guess you’re my best friend, now?”

 

The guy chuckled, his hair falling into his eyes, but didn’t say anything, just kept unpacking more bottles. Of which there were a lot.

 

“Daaaamn,” said a dark haired girl, who slid up next to them, as if out of nowhere. Makoto. She, Seiya knew, as well. She lay a comfortable arm on Mamoru’s shoulder. What, was he touchy-feely with _all_ the girls at this party? “Did you buy the whole store or what?”

 

“Do not reprimand those who come bearing gifts,” Yaten said, almost in a growl, causing Seiya to chuckle, but he was overheard, as Mamoru answered Makoto at the same time.

 

“Usa couldn’t decide, so I bought it all.” He shrugged, smiling.

 

Seiya’s chuckle lodged in his throat, as his eyes widened, and he realized just _who_ this guy was.

 

He knew she had a boyfriend. She’d mentioned it. But…

 

Shit.

 

He didn’t want it, god he didn’t want it. Yet he felt the blood rushing in his ears, and everything went a little slower, as Mamoru’s eyes jumped to his, as if he could read him, as if he noticed…

 

He felt himself turn rigid, trying to stand a little taller, straighter, his arms crossing stiffly in front of his chest.

 

… And then, he heard her. She practically came bouncing into the room, greeting everyone loudly, to an excited chorus of her name, and straight to his side, beaming up at him.

 

She hadn’t even noticed Seiya standing right there, at first. She only had eyes for him.

 

Seiya didn’t hear what they talked about. The rushing in his ears was too loud. He only snapped out of it, when her eyes met his, after all. Surprise written over it, and then it lit up.

 

“Oh, Seiya!!” she said, excitedly, and grabbed Mamoru’s sleeve a little tighter, dragging him down to her  a little, forward a notch. “Let me introduce you!”

 

Mamoru chuckled, mumbling how he already introduced himself, and she fell into the cutest pout that Seiya couldn’t help staring at.

 

His heart did somersaults, the blood still rushing. It felt as if it would beat right out of his chest, as he looked at her… And Mamoru looked at him, quizzically. That look again, as if he looked right through Seiya.

 

It was overall a very stupid moment to admit to oneself that your heart _did_ do funny things when looking at someone, after all, while meeting their partner, wasn’t it…

 

His eyes flew back to her hands. How they clutched at Mamoru’s sleeve, tenderly, possessively.

 

God, he was a moron.

 

He swallowed. And swallowed again. And somehow he willed it back up, the smug look, the high chin, the superior façade.

 

“So, how many elephants do you wanna get drunk with this, exactly, Odango?” he smirked at Usagi, and nodded his head first toward all the liters of alcohol she’d apparently made Mamoru buy, and then toward Yaten. “Maybe start with grumpy cat, here.”

 

Usagi rolled her eyes, as Mamoru chuckled and replied in her stead, while Yaten simply held out his glass, empty again, his face completely neutral.

 

L

 

If it weren’t so irritating, it would be downright funny to observe…

 

Let’s just say, Mamoru felt something of a learning curve, tonight.

 

He’d gotten it before, of course, from the things Usagi had told him about this Seiya. That he must be at least crushing on her – this pop idol whom seemingly every woman present, and in the near vicinity, fawned over and fell for.

 

This was, to be completely honest, probably the one part about this whole situation that _really_ irked him. Of _all_ the girls this guy could have picked, his eyes just _had_ to land on Usagi?

 

Mamoru sighed. At least the guy had good taste, he supposed?

 

And, he had to hand it to him. Seiya didn’t make a move. Not at all. He just didn’t keep away, either.

 

Mamoru supposed Seiya didn’t even realize the extent of his obvious feelings. It was one of those times that Mamoru would have liked nothing more than to _not_ be a psychometrist and an empath. He didn’t really want to see the way Seiya’s eyes flitted back to Usagi, wherever she was. The way his heart rate picked up the nearer she was. The way his breath hitched, when she walked into view. The way his face would flush, when she giggled about something he’d said to her. While she, meanwhile, was so _utterly_ oblivious, it was almost hilarious.

 

Seiya was head over heels.

 

And still, he could also feel the turmoil in this guy. He’d felt the shock in him, seen all the color drain from his face, when Seiya realized who Mamoru was. But he hadn’t felt anger, or dislike, in Seiya. Just turmoil, and a pinch of unwilling despair, and even respect, for both of them, Usagi _and_ Mamoru.

 

The guy wanted to be in this situation as little as Mamoru wanted him to be in it. It was like he was a moth to a flame, Seiya had had no choice in this.

 

With that, Mamoru could sympathize. It had been the same for him, with Usagi, after all.

 

Plus, the guy seemed to be really nice, Mamoru had to admit to himself, somewhat unwillingly. A little smug, maybe, in the way he held himself, but that wasn’t anything Mamoru wasn’t familiar with, himself, as well.

 

So, Mamoru practically leaned back and watched him. He watched Seiya flirt his way into every conversation, and at the same time he was utterly respectful of boundaries and wishes. He took more selfies with people than Mamoru had taken photos in his life, tonight. And Mamoru felt the slight discomfort it gave Seiya, every single time. Mamoru realized with a start that that man who had genuinely smiled, and graciously posed for photo after photo, tonight, actually didn’t like to have his photo taken. That he did it just to be nice, in spite, and never once let the person next to him suspect a thing of it.

 

He watched Seiya’s eyes light up, whenever Usagi bounded into a conversation, or even when she just giggled with Minako, or pulled Naru in to dance with her on that mattress, across the room.

 

He felt the embarrassed, almost unwilling tug of Seiya’s repressed feelings, when Usagi had reacted with wide, amazed eyes after she’d announced her ‘little sister’ was the Three Light’s biggest fan, and he had then handed her six tickets for a concert on Sunday, that he’d fished out of his breast pocket, promising to meet her sister in the backstage area, if she wanted.

 

Usagi jumped up and down, excitedly, joyfully, pressing the tickets to her chest, completely oblivious to the envious looks she received from most of the other girls present.

 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Rei said, next to him.

 

Mamoru shook his head to clear it, and turned his face a little toward her. It was loud, here, over the music.

 

“Do what?” he asked with a smile.

 

Rei pursed her lips and raised her eyebrow, calling him out.

 

“Be so cool about this guy hitting on your girl all night?” she deadpanned, eyebrow high.

 

Mamoru snorted mirthfully into his raised glass. “He’s not hitting on her, he’s talking to her. There’s a difference.”

 

She tsked, and rolled her eyes at him. “ _Right_. Because that’s _such_ a difference,” she said. And after a moment, added, “You do realize he likes her, right?”

 

‘ _Likes_ her’. That was an understatement, but a term he could live with, he supposed.

 

He shrugged. “That’s not a crime, is it?”

 

Rei scrunched up her eyes and nose and shook her head erratically, quickly. Her whole demeanor read, ‘Are you _daft_?!’

 

Mamoru’s lips lifted in a half smile. He threw her a pointed look, and then looked back at where Usagi was pulling Naru into their circle, Seiya’s eyes on her all the while.

 

“I trust her,” Mamoru said, automatically, as he watched her laughing face. And he did. All of him did. There was no doubt in him. Zero.

 

Rei rolled her eyes. “Of course you do, but…”

 

“You’re the one who is always appalled when films pretend that men and women can’t be friends,” Mamoru pointed out, and took another sip of his drink.

 

Rei blinked at him, annoyed. The look she always gave him, when he threw her own words back at her.

 

“Not when one loves the other, no they can’t,” she said, frowning.

 

Mamoru snorted, softly. “You love, her, too,” he pointed out.

 

Rei’s mouth opened, and then closed. She turned and glared at him, before it turned back into a frown.

 

He was right, of course. Mamoru knew, with every fibre of him, that there was no love in the world deeper than that of her Senshi to Usagi. Probably not even his own, even if he couldn’t fathom that.

 

“That’s different.”

 

“Is it?” Mamoru said, shrugging.

 

“Yes it is,” she said, after a while. “My love for her isn’t selfish, or possessive.”

 

Mamoru blinked, frowning, and was about to shoot back, ‘And his is?’, but thought better of it. For one, he wasn’t going to win her over. Rei had a pretty low opinion of men, after all. And two, he wasn’t gonna go _defend_ the guy who liked his girl. He might not blame him, but it still irritated him.

 

Though, focusing back on the way Seiya looked at Usagi, with no urge to act on it in him, whatsoever, simply awe, instead, he couldn’t feel anything selfish or possessive in the guy’s feelings, at all.

 

“Right, you party poopers!”

 

Mamoru jumped a bit, Minako’s voice was _so, very loud_ , as she slid up next to Rei.

 

Minako was quite obviously a little flushed, her words a little slurry, and Mamoru had to chuckle.

 

“ _Soooo_ ,” Minako said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, her face very close to Rei’s, “dance with me?”

 

Rei rolled her eyes theatrically, but Mamoru had to chuckle again, when he noticed the short spike in Rei’s heart rate, when Minako batted her eyelashes at her, so close to her face.

 

It was an interaction he’d have liked to focus on, Minako dragging a grumpily protesting Rei to the little makeshift dance floor, were his attention not needed elsewhere.

 

“Mamo-chan, Mamo-chan!! Look!” Usagi yelped, loudly, bouncing up to him. “We got tickets for the Three Lights concert on Sunday!!”

 

Mamoru felt almost sorry for the tug of agony Mamoru felt in Seiya so loudly at her words. Understandable, of course. There he goes giving his crush backstage tickets to his concert, and the first thing she does is hand them over to her boyfriend, happily, for safekeeping.

 

Mamoru smiled at Seiya in the distance, over Usagi’s head, sympathetically, as he put the tickets in his wallet, but Seiya averted his eyes, quickly, and turned to a girl that spoke to him.

 

He looked down at Usagi, and the way she beamed up at him, then cocked an eyebrow, as she tried tugging at his arm.

 

“No,” he said, laughing.

 

“Pleaaaase?” she whined.

 

“I’m not nearly drunk enough to dance to this music, Usa. Plus, you dance with me daily, anyway.”

 

She hmpfed, and ‘fine’ed, but she _did_ manage to get him out of his corner, and into one of the many spattered groups of her friends at this party. At least, this year he knew most of them, and they knew him. Nobody cared anymore, when he was a bit more quiet and neutral. 

 

Makoto joined them, while one of Usagi’s classmates – Megumi? Fuyumi? – interrogated Unazuki about what ever happened to that guy she made out with at this very party, last year, just as Usagi poked Umino in the side, who looked a little sullen.

 

“Umino! Why aren’t you dancing?” Usagi’s question was almost a demand.

 

The short boy almost pouted in his sulking, when he mumbled, “Everyone always laughs about my dancing…”

 

“What? No!” Usagi called out. Her eyes were wide, and Mamoru swore she was about to shake the boy, but held herself back.  “Umino, we love your dancing! I love your dancing! _You_ love your dancing!”

 

“But…”

 

“Oh you!” Usagi tutted, shaking her head. “Let them talk all they want. They don't matter. Dance the way you want to dance.”

 

Mamoru smiled.

 

“I'll dance with you!” Usagi declared, and with a blink of Mamoru’s eye her hands were off his arm and on Umino’s collar, pulling. “C'mon, we'll funny dance together until everyone joins! Maestro!”

 

She yelled the last bit across the room, over the music, on the top of her lungs. It was earth-shatteringly loud, and Mamoru had to cringe, amused - and she wasn’t even joking. The girl at the "DJ" laptop had donned a cap that read 'Maestro'.

 

“We want to Funky Town it, please!” she called, and then turned back to Mamoru.

 

“You’ll be fine, right?”

 

He rolled his eyes, and playfully shoved her along.

 

They started dancing immediately, and Mamoru had to snort about the way it looked. Usagi matched Umino’s style of dancing exactly, down to every twitch and twerk… It looked extremely funny, even when no one noticed how skill was involved to copy someone so exactly. Usagi was brilliant…

 

It was minutes before Umino started dancing on the table, the song having changed to a strange number that was mostly synthesizer sounds and white noise to him, causing Umino and Usagi to fall into a kind of ridiculous robotic dance, while howling along to the lyrics (even when he wouldn’t call it singing.) ‘Push me, and then just touch me, till I can get my, satisfaction.’

 

Mamoru blushed a little, shaking his head. The songs she sometimes sang, without understanding the lyrics…

 

He shook out of it, smiled, and turned to the kitchen, to get himself another drink. Something to hold on to. When he returned, Seiya and Yaten stood where he’d stood before, talking to Makoto, Naru and Unazuki.

 

“—Well, it hasn’t been that long, it really happened almost overnight—”

 

Mamoru caught the last snippets of their conversation. About fame and idolhood. But he noticed how Seiya broke off uncomfortably, when Mamoru joined.

 

It made Mamoru feel sorry for the guy, once more.

 

Mamoru whacked his brain for something to say. Anything. Anything nice that didn’t involve the things he really wanted to say. I’m sorry you’re in love with my girlfriend. Believe me, I know how it is. I used to watch her from afar for years. Sorry for how you feel, but I’m not gonna go away.

 

But the truth was, he might have less ground for suitable small talk conversation with the guy than he had with Minako…

 

He cringed, and opted for the first thing that came to mind, when he thought about fame.

 

“I really couldn’t do what you guys do. All that unwanted attention, all the time? I’d go insane,” he said, feeling rather lame. It was, after all, probably comparable to the life he’d led as Endymion. Not that he’d liked that, then, either, though, mind you.

 

It was the shorter of the idols, Yaten, who started groaning loudly.

 

“Thank you!” he growled. “Exactly!”

 

His groan was so agonized, Mamoru had to chuckle.

 

“I swear, if I hear one more of you say they envy us for our fame, _I’m_ gonna go insane,” he saw the guy throw Minako a pointed look, but she was busy dancing with Rei, and didn’t look.  “It’s _horrible_!”

 

Mamoru cocked his head sideways. “Why do you do it, then?”

 

Yaten’s reaction made Mamoru start. He shifted, uncomfortably, and threw Seiya a look, opened his mouth, closed it again, and then shrugged. “Not my choice,” he said in the end, ominously.

 

Mamoru frowned.

 

It was sometime later, that Makoto slid up next to him, a big, Cheshire cat grin on her face.

 

“Right… soooo,  just making sure that you’re seeing what I’m seeing, yeah?” she said, grinning mischievously.

 

Mamoru rolled his eyes, and he and Naru, in unison, both in a monotone voice, replied with an “uhuh.” – Though while he was pretty fine, Naru sounded incredibly annoyed.

 

Makoto giggled.

 

Minako had a nose for stuff like this, so of course she chose this moment to bounce into their conversation, dragging Rei along. “What?? What???”

 

Makoto smirked and stepped aside, so Minako had a view into the room.

 

Rei started cracking up. “Is Usagi trying to _break dance_?! _What_?”

 

Mamoru couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Granted, break dance wasn’t her strong suit in training. Not at all. But it wasn’t his, either. That shit was _hard_ , _they_ should try it before they judged her…

 

And she fell. Hard. . All of them flìnched. Ouch. He was just about to jump forward and help her up, when she got up, laughing embarrassedly, a hand at her head and one eye scrunched shut.

 

Mamoru exhaled.

 

Someone next to him laughed – Aya? Fuyumi? He really needed to learn these names. “Oh man, look at those two cuties trying to be gangstahs, awwww.”

 

Minako’s eyes lit right up, though, and she grabbed Seiya at his sleeve, and dragged him to the dance floor to join in with her.

 

Mamoru couldn’t help the irritation he felt that Seiya wasn’t too bad, dancing.

 

The song changed again. Obviously someone was adamant to cover the entire palette of trash pop. Evacuate the dancefloor... he could only shake his head.

 

Rei, beside him, cackled on about the sight Umino and Usagi made, and so did many of Usagi’s classmates. He smiled a small smile. If they only knew... they'd all drop their jaws, if Usagi _really_ started dancing. She'd gotten so good. And he had to hand it to her... the way she was matching and mimicking Umino's style so exactly, joining him in all senses of the word, protecting him from ridicule by making it cool and genuinely funny…

 

The song changed again, and this time it wasn’t even so bad. But Umino huffed and puffed after all of that, and now that he couldn’t dance silly, he went off the dance floor – Mamoru chuckled as Usagi protested. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her face said it all. As if Umino had betrayed her.

 

The boy shook his head at her, holding up his hands, saying he’ll be back, he promised, and Usagi sighed, and turned to Minako – who was busy dancing with Seiya – with a disappointed look on his face.

 

Mamoru sighed, feeling himself altogether transported back to last year. Where he’d joined so she wouldn’t dance with Seijuro. It surprised him a little, as he walked decisively toward her, that he wasn’t joining for the same reason this year. Yes, he’d definitely be irritated if Seiya tried to dance with her, but… that’s not why he joined. He joined because he didn’t like to see that disappointed look on her face.

 

He didn’t have to see it for long, of course. He smirked, when her eyes danced happily, as he slipped his hands around her waist.

 

“Hi,” he breathed with a half-smile.

 

“Hi,” she replied. Her smile was so bright and wide his own turned fuller. They must have looked ridiculous.

 

He knew he probably shouldn’t do it. They’d be making a show, with all that training. But still, he couldn’t help it, and so he tugged at her waist, widening his steps, and oh so easily, they started flowing around the dance floor.

 

He felt the circle that formed around them, rather than see it, and held up her arm, causing her to twirl and move in fluid, graceful steps around him. She was magnificent to look at. She’d gotten so good at dancing, _really_ dancing, nobody could look away.

 

He did feel a quiver in the air, though. Among the cheers and ‘whoo’s and surprised yells. The hurt that hit him, from afar.

 

It caused him to slow down, and he glanced at Seiya quickly, over her head, again. Seiya averted his eyes, once more, but Mamoru saw the way he pressed his lips together.

 

He sighed, and shortened his steps, as, around them, people started to dance again.

 

“He likes you,” he mumbled to her crown.

 

She blinked, looking up at him. “Who?”

 

He snorted. It was starting to get ridiculous. “You know, it’s kinda reassuring to know how utterly horrible you are at understanding when people flirt with you.”

 

“What, Seiya??” she asked, incredulously, looking up at him. “He doesn’t! We’re friends!”

 

He kissed her forehead and smiled, but snorted again. And he couldn’t help swinging her out again, and she bounced on her feet as she twirled around in a way and back in that had them sway with her back to his front, his arms crossed around her, and back out.

 

Someone next to them whistled, approvingly, and Usagi giggled.

 

‘Maestro’ faded a new song into the old. It was a high, quick melody that he recognized immediately. Electric organ with overlaid chimes, an octave higher, to make the rather sweet melody stand out more. The syncopated rhythm and its 60’s feel with Soul elements.

 

Dancing in the moonlight. One of the cutest songs he knew, and on his ‘Usako’ playlist.

 

Usagi squealed, started jumping up and down, clapping her hands excitedly.  He laughed, but stopped dancing – he loved that song, but he was slightly embarrassed because this wasn't really the elegant dancing, anymore, that they did before and it made him a bit uncomfortable with all that attention. However, he didn’t really know what to do, because she was _so excited_ and happy to be dancing with him, and basically twittered around him, as he rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the half smile.  So he did what always worked when he didn’t know exactly what to do, and pulled her to him by the waist, and into a deep, long, passionate kiss.

 

She sighed into his mouth, giggly, breathless.

 

... and then he entangled himself from under all her wildly flailing limbs and turned to leave the dance floor.

 

“Nooooo, pleaaase.”

 

He sighed. “Usako…”

 

She followed him a few steps, pulling on his sleeve.

 

 “Usako…” he repeated.

 

He made it at least to the side of the table, to where Rei and Unazuki stood, and Motoki who’d been talking to one of Usagi’s classmates for an exceptionally long time.

 

“I promised Umino to funny dance all night long,” Usagi whined, pulling at his arm.

 

“Yes, then go do that,” Mamoru chuckled, “without me.”

 

“But I wanna dance with youuu.”

 

And then the song faded out again, into a new one – one of their training songs. One of the _worst_ ones...

 

Her eyes lit up, almost ecstatically so, and he groaned.

 

No. Way.

 

He shook his head slowly, as she wiggled her eyebrow suggestively. He was _entirely_ too sober for that.

 

Minako, the _traitor_ , appeared as if out of nowhere, handing Usagi two bottles of champagne that she grabbed gleefully and held up in front of his face with a peculiar suggestive look in her eyes.  Makoto, behind them, cheered loudly and started chanting something the entire side of the room joined in with all too quickly.

 

 _Fill. Him. Up. Fill. Him. Up_.

 

And he just shook his head, _very_ slowly.

 

Usagi pursed her lips, but then started smirking. He swallowed.  She leant in toward him, whispering in his ears, something so racy, so scandalous he had to inhale sharply, a bargain.... and he exhaled slowly, crunching his eyes shut and then grabbed one of the champagne bottles from her, set it at his lips and gulped as much as he could down in one go, to a chorus of cheering Sailor Senshi and partygoers around him.  The bottle was almost empty when he set it down again, while Usagi squealed and handed the second bottle to Makoto with instructions, and in a blink of an eye they back on the dance floor, dancing to this ridiculous, ridiculous song.

 

 And he did it all – all these embarrassing silly moves Haruka made them do in training, sometimes, one after the other. Hammertime, moonwalk, dabble, one-legged twists, Billie Jean legs,  Jump On It,  twerking, balloon, shimmy, Smooth Criminal, hair comb, cabbage patch, C-walk, Batusi, hustle, Spongebob, gangnam style, slut drop, the strut, Mary Poppins, criss-cross toprock, even the bloody _nipple rub_. He did it all. And the songs kept coming. _All of them_ , because Mako and the champagne had found their way to the Maestro, and he couldn't fathom he would ever be doing something so embarrassing in his life again, but Usagi was there next to him, dancing, laughing, mimicking every single ever so ridiculous movement and she _radiated_ joy, as she giggled, breathlessly, uncontrollably…

 

…and somehow that made it all worth it, even when his head was becoming very, very light, and Mako kept bringing him more drinks with straws…

 

And at some point, this suddenly became the most fun he’d ever had, and god, was Usako always so soft when he touched her?

 

And then, he hadn’t even noticed it – that point where they slipped from funny dancing into actual dancing, and Usagi looked so _magical_ … Mamoru gulped around his swimming head, trying to think, and had trouble telling her, so he nudged her mentally, as she stared to glow, trying to remind her where they were, to reign her powers back in…

 

He looked over her head. Seiya stood right in the throng of people watching them, mesmerized, oblivious. But it was Yaten’s intense stare at the flow of her arms, the glow of silver in her hair, that caused Mamoru to stop her, immediately, even as his head was spinning and his sight was blurry, her giggling and loose, inhibited form as she moved.  Stop the dancing. Stop it now.

 

L

 

 

Seiya rubbed his face with a groan. The neon lights of Tokyo reflected on the wet asphalt in the pitch dark, on their walk home – it had rained while they were at this party, allowing a beautiful light show on the ground that seemed to mimic his current state of conflicted feeling rather well.

 

“So, what are you saying?” Seiya pressed between clenched teeth. “ You think she's a Senshi?”

 

Yaten rolled his eyes. “No. Dimwit. Can _you_ do that? I don't think she's a Senshi, I think she's...”

 

Their Princess… His heart skipped a beat, tumbling into his gut. He had to take a deep breath, before he repeated his thoughts. “She’s their princess?”

 

He didn’t want this to be true. Usagi… _Odango_ …This pure, kind, innocent girl… a target, just like Kakyuu? Could she be next? _No_ …

 

Yaten shook his head “Probably, but…”

 

Yaten sighed, deeply, before he continued. “I don't know why we didn't consider the possibility that Earth might still have a princess, after all. But yes…It's _obviously_ her... with _that_ glow... but… that wasn’t _really_ what I was getting at, Seiya.”

 

Yaten was uncharacteristically careful about this. All because he wanted at least to try and consider his feelings in the matter, yet still Seiya gulped, looking straight ahead on the empty streets and the blinking lights, that looked a bit lost without people passing them by.

 

A crystal holder… That’s what Yaten meant. Earth princess would be a crystal holder. _Usagi_ could be a crystal holder.

 

They only knew one other. Had believed her to be the last. Invincible. Galaxia…

 

“If she _is_ a crystal holder, Seiya…”

 

Then they might stand a chance.

 

He exhaled. His steps sounded so very loud on the wet ground, yet the sound was hollow.

 

Seiya shook his head, quickly, to clear it. “You forget Galaxia is not only a crystal Holder, but a crystal holder possessing hundreds of Star Seeds. She has _way_ more power than just her crystal…”

 

Yaten pursed his lips, and the irony wasn’t lost on Seiya that suddenly the roles were reversed. The cynical realist and the optimist.

 

But Yaten sighed, and let that particular strand of conversation go, before he snorted, mirthfully. “Just imagine the odds? That we might have found the long lost, mythical holder of the Golden Crystal?”

 

Seiya swallowed. Right. Earth’s princess would be the holder of the Golden Crystal. A crystal thought to be long lost, ever since Earth’s royal family, in the ancient days, had failed to produce female heirs, anymore, for generations.

 

They’d known all the tales about the glory days, even before the Silver Millennium alliance, the alliance of the Senshi, and before its doom. There had been a day when the universe had been protected by its crystal holders. And this tiny, little solar system, at the edge of the Milky Way, had borne not one, but two crystals, in so close a proximity. It was a fabled time, stories you told the youngsters, but… it was also the reason any Senshi to date, in the galaxy, still learned as many of those nowadays underdeveloped human languages as possible. Knew their culture and their customs, to honor the culture that it used to have in the ancient days, the meaning it had had for the forming of Senshi identity.

 

 There were only three crystals in the known universe to begin with… Golden, Silver, Sapphire. The Silver Crystal fell, butchered, with its royal family in the fall of the famed Silver Millennium. The Golden Crystal had disappeared from existence long before, never reborn, and then all the strands of the royal family that produced it had been wiped out in that awful, infamous war… but, of course… humanity _had_ survived. So… what if strands of the royal family _had_ survived, passing down the Golden Crystal through the generations and millennia after all…

 

“But... she's a normal _high schooler_?” Seiya whispered into the night, only barely turned toward Yaten, more speaking to himself. “If she is Earth's princess and crystal holder then... what is she doing growing up as a normal person. Walking about, unprotected...”

 

Seiya's eyes widened. Maybe she doesn't _know_... Earth, they knew so little, so underdeveloped, maybe... His heart beat faster. She needs protection. _They_ could protect her…

 

“Idiot,” Yaten said, rolling his eyes again with a sigh.

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t you read the news?” Yaten said in a bored tone.

 

Seiya frowned.

 

Yaten stopped, seemingly at random, in front of a little toy shop, barely lit, and threw him a pointed look. Without looking at the window, he pointed at something on display. In the window stood an action figure. Long dark hair, red pumps. Fuku.

 

“There are Senshi here. She has protection,” Yaten said, condescendingly, as if talking to a child. … Or an idiot. “And from all those girls flitting about her, I’m pretty sure we know who they are. Unconventional, yeah… but she has protection.”

 

Seiya stopped. Looked, squinted. He knew of course, that a Senshi’s image was glamoured. The person behind this image could be standing right next to him, for him to compare to the image of this action figure, and he wouldn’t recognize her. And yet… he tried.

 

Yaten was right though. If she _was_ Earth’s long lost princess… then all these girls, flitting about her at school, sharing their bentos, helping her. They must be her Senshi. Makoto. Minako. Naru. And most definitely that girl they saved from the Animamates the other day.

 

He exhaled, and once again rubbed his hands across with face, with a groan. Yaten beside him turned, and walked on.

 

He took another moment, inhaling, exhaling, looking imploringly at that red-clad action figure, before he sighed and jogged after Yaten, his feet slipping noisily along the wet ground.

 

It was a while before Yaten spoke again, when they already saw their apartment building up ahead. “ _Soooo_ …” he started, smirking deviously, but trailed off.

 

“Hm?”

 

“You just _happened_ to _conveniently_ carry a bunch of backstage concert tickets with you, yeah?” Yaten sniggered.

 

Seiya growled, and threw him a dark look as he unlocked the door.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Yaten’s cackle carried through the empty hallway.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry, guys XD. I know some of you were rooting for Mamoru to get crazy jealous and possessive and I go and have him be all adult and reflected about it xD.
> 
> But… I kinda feel that, at least in my universe, he’d have learned his lesson after Seijuro, plus… they are in this SUPER committed relationship, here. Practically living together, spending tons and tons of time together, knowing everything about each other there is to know, completely open. And he KNOWS how special that is, how unique. I just don’t feel Mamoru would feel threatened all that much over any random guy with a crush, even if it’s a pop idol – as long as they don’t DO anything. So yeah, I don’t see Mamoru, here, as a raving jealous person, be it Seiya, or Haruka, or anyone... I see him more with a constantly raised eyebrow than anything. Haruka and Seiya going off at each other, maybe, and Mamoru just shrugging in the back even though it's his girlfriend they're fighting over. Mamoru, more than anyone, knows his girlfriend is the purest, kindest person in the world – I think he'd understand that others are in love with Usagi, too. He doesn’t doubt her, or their love. If anything, there might be moments where he’d doubt himself – if he’s good enough for her. But this party isn’t one of those moments.
> 
> (Tho, in a setting where they AREN’T in a crazy committed relationship like this (yet), or even just meeting or dating, yet, gimme raving, jealous Mamoru ANY DAY!)
> 
> Also, on the matter of Rei: I do realize that in the anime, Rei is turbo-fangirling over the Three Lights, as well. But my Rei has never been her anime counterpart, but leaning slightly more toward her Manga version. Grumpy, arrogant, traditional, calm, spiritual, elegant, man-hating Rei. The girl who, in school, enjoys ‘ancient writing’ and dislikes ‘modern society’ as a subject, because she doesn’t fawn over all that modern shishi, as described by Naoko. THIS Rei I really don’t see fangirling over a pop-singing boy band. I just don’t.
> 
> AND. Watch ‘100 Epic Dance Moves’ on Youtube for those silly dance moves ;)


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the crazy support on these last two chapters. It's making me write so, so, so much faster, and I cannot thank you enough for it!
> 
> Who I also can't thank enough is UglyGreenJacket, my beta. This thing here is book-sized, I'm very aware of it, and she's taking so much of her free time out of her schedule to edit this for me. Thank you, love!
> 
> AND, before we go on, another warning:
> 
> This chapter contains another M rated sex-scene, so if that's not for you, skip parts of the first scene! I tried, of course, to make it as tasteful as ever, and I'm not "showing" it all the way, really, but... you know. You get to choose if you wanna read sex scenes or not ;)

L

 

Mamoru woke with a groan; not because of a hangover, of course – thankfully he didn’t get those, courtesy of his healing powers – but because Usagi’s knee had kicked him in the chin.

 

He rubbed a hand across it, opening and stretching his mouth and jaw to soothe the jab of pain from it, but couldn’t help chuckling.

 

Usagi lay spread all across the bed, turned sideways, her head barely on the edge of it anymore, one leg flung over his pillow, one foot – attached to the knee that had attacked him, now flat against his chest, both arms stretched to either side of her. She’d kicked the blanket all the way off the bed, leaving both of them exposed. His button-down that she wore was scrunched around her middle, and he rolled his eyes amusedly at the sight of her panties.

 

There was a small, anime style Tuxedo Mask on the front of it. She wore them, sometimes, to annoy him, and he must have not noticed them, last night, in his drunken state.

 

Outside the window of her bedroom, the sun had long risen, heating the room as if it were summer. Birds were chirping loudly in the tree beside her window.

 

He propped his elbow up, and rested his head in it, as he pulled her foot away from his chest with his other arm, and then proceeded to rearrange her on the bed, snaking his hand across her soft tummy to get a grip on the smooth skin of her waist in order to draw her towards him and into the proper angle that normal people, who weren’t his girlfriend, slept in – it was easily done, of course, even with one arm. Usagi tended to mold herself against his touch, even as she slept like the dead.

 

She moaned softly and snuggled into his side drowsily, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder just like Luna sometimes did, and he couldn’t suppress the smile at it.

 

Damn, she was adorable.

 

It had heated up considerably – unnaturally so – even though it was already October, so her skin was a little clammy and sweaty – which meant that, to him, she smelled downright irresistible.

 

He contemplated waking her up by running his tongue in the dip of her hip bones, under her breast, in her navel… but she’d had a bit to drink, as well, and he wanted her to sleep a bit more, lest she felt uncomfortable for it. So, he just lay there, watching her, running one finger absentmindedly along the seam of her ridiculous Tuxedo Mask panties.

 

He hadn’t counted on the little whirlwind in the attic, though.

 

Chibi-Kiju obviously was up already, as well, hopping through the sweet little makeshift room the Tsukinos had made up for her under the roof, which happened to be right above Usagi’s, yelling loudly down her set of stairs toward whom he assumed was Ikuko. Ami had promised to take her to the aquarium today, show her more of what the little girl liked most: life. And, unsurprisingly, Shingo had suddenly both developed an interest in watching over his surrogate little sister and all things maritime, overnight, and had agreed to go, as well – something that had amused Usagi dearly.

 

He could hear her voice loud and clear, it was so loud – whenever she got excited she passed for a Tsukino effortlessly.

 

Usagi groaned, her voice muffled by his shoulder, her brow scrunching up adorably and Mamoru had to chuckle.

 

“Why does that kid have to be so louuud all the time?” she whined.

 

He raised an eyebrow, even though she wasn’t looking. “You mean unlike you?”

 

“ _Hgn_ ” she made, thumping her wrist loosely against his side, offended, and he chuckled again.

 

“I’m not _that_ bad,” she murmured, eyes still closed.

 

“Right, no,” he smirked down at her, unseen. “You’re not quite as loud as a four year old, no.”

 

She huffed, but snuggled closer against him, yawning loudly.

 

“I’m really not as childish as you always seem to think,” she mumbled, her voice becoming clearer, as she rubbed her eyes and pointed down at herself. “See? I even slept in a normal-person position tonight.”

 

He laughed, his frame shaking her. Right. If only you knew…

 

Then he grew serious, frowning, and turned fully on his side to look her in the eye.

 

“You know I don’t mind, right?”

 

“Hm?” she said, angling her face up from his chest to look back of at him.

 

“That you’re loud, and sleep crazy, and eat unhealthy food, and make me dance and a fool out of myself in public?” he said with a soft smile, as she started pouting in mock-offense. “I love those things about you…”

 

She smiled – it was a bit lazy, not yet completely and fully awake. “You didn’t make a fool out of yourself,” she started. “And I know for a fact every girl in the room was jealous of me.”

 

He rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.

 

“No, really!”

 

He raised both an eyebrow and one side of his lip in a cheeky smirk. “And you don’t think they were just jealous because a certain pop idol seems to be so smitten with you?”

 

“Ugh,” Usagi grunted. “Not again”

 

He chuckled. “It’s ok, I’m just joking.”

 

He looked over to the clock, and had to blink twice.  It was past noon already – he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that long. He grunted, and disentangled himself from his protesting girlfriend.

 

“ _Noooooo_ ,” she whined, clinging to him.

 

But after more than a year of this, he was well practiced in countering her strategies, and slipped from her effortlessly, even when that pout of hers clearly and definitely was her strongest weapon against his willpower.

 

Still, he managed.

 

He withdrew what he wasn’t surprised to see to be the last clean shirt he had at hers, from his designated drawer, and slipped it on, leaving it unbuttoned still, before awkwardly folding his long legs into yesterday’s black skinny jeans.

 

Usagi rolled onto her stomach, propping up her elbows, as she watched him dress with her head cocked to her side.

 

“So, do you like him, now that you've actually talked to him?” she asked.

 

He was confused for a moment, not knowing what she was talking about, until it came to him. _Oh, Seiya. Right_.

 

He shrugged. “I guess.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Well,” he said, inclining his head, “I do see why you two get along that well.”

 

She furrowed her brows. “Eh?”

 

He shrugged again, fingers starting to work his buttons from the bottom up. “You two are exactly alike…”

 

She looked absolutely bewildered, causing him to grin at her. “Huh? What?” she exclaimed, appalled. “I'm nothing like that womanizer!”

 

He smirked, eyes twinkling. “You just don't realize it.”

 

“What? No!”

 

“Usako...” he said, directing her with that look she liked to call his ‘frustrated explaining’ mode, and he always rolled his eyes when she said that, but, anyway…

 

“Both of you can entertain and charm an entire room with your little fingers, put everyone at ease,” he said, voice low, eyes soft. “ _His_ emphasis might be a bit more towards the entertaining and yours more towards the ease... but you two are so alike it's scary... and so yes, I like him. Of course I like him. He irritates me, but I like him.”

 

The last bit, finally, caused her to smile happily, and he nodded. Mission accomplished.

 

She did look adorable, the way she lay there on her stomach, face propped on both hands, feet dangling in the air behind her.

 

“He’s much more like Minako, though,” Usagi said after a while, her head cocked sideways.

 

“You're forgetting that you and Minako are pretty alike, too,” he answered with a soft smile and a calm voice.

 

This earned him a frown, her head momentarily perking up and off her hands. “But you hate Minako!”

 

He blinked at her, and started spluttering. “NO, I _don't_?” he said, as she raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“I like her!” he said, and her second eyebrow was raised in answer, joining the other, so he went to elaborate because of it.  

 

“I don't get her, most of the time, and I'm jealous of her, but I don't hate her?”

 

“Wait,” she said, lifting herself up a little straighter. “What? You're jealous of Mina-P?”

 

He threw her a look that must have conveyed utter confusion. Did she not realize this? Really?

 

“Of course!” he said, incredulously, and she blinked at him.

 

He shrugged, and felt a little naked all of a sudden. “I know it's different, but... the bond you two have? They way she loves you so very unconditionally? Of course, I'm jealous…”

 

“Wait…” she said, and awkwardly sat up. “So, you're _not_ jealous of Seiya, who _you_ claim likes me, but you _are_ jealous of Minako?!”

 

He shrugged.

 

“Huh,” she said, frowning. “I didn’t realize that…”

 

It looked adorable, of course, as she always did, and he smiled at her amusedly.

 

Usagi shifted positions, and now sat cross-legged on the bed, sighing. Obviously, she was done sleeping, as well, if rather reluctantly, and started cursing the sun, and how could it get so warm again in bloody October. He kept glancing back at her – even after so long, the sight of her in bed in just his shirt distracted him to no end, but he swallowed it down, and at least tried to focus on the task at hand; shuffling his dirty clothes from his hamper to his duffel bag, as she whined a little more about the heat and the unfairness of it all.

 

But he couldn’t help wondering, and so he interrupted her after a while… “He’s way more like you than I am, you know…” he said, his voice coming out more unsure than he had intended.

 

This caused another frown on Usagi’s face, a different kind, and she inched a little closer on the bed.

 

“Umm... I know you aren’t… “ He started, shook his head, and dropped the bag, before standing up fully in front of her, instead, raking a hand through his hair which must already look bedridden and ridiculous. “I mean, I feel it, and you don’t need to worry I’d think it, but…  why me and not him?”

 

He couldn’t help the embarrassed flinch at the end of his own sentence, there.

 

She looked up at him bewildered, as she wriggled her little hand between them. “You do feel this, right?”

 

He rolled his eyes and smiled.

 

She frowned. So hard that it created a deep ridge between her eyebrows, making her look positively stern, and he had to chuckle, which earned him another glare, but he lowered himself back on the bed next to her, turned towards her, as she began her halting speech.

 

“You’re my other half…” she began, the frown disappearing as she talked. “Yes, I like him, and I get him… but you get me, much more than anyone, and there is not a single soul in this universe that I … I have no words for this. You’re my most important. For you I’d… I dunno. It’s you. It’s _here_.” She wriggled her hand between them again, as if she expected to grasp at a rope spun between them, and he could understand, he felt it, too. He felt it always. “I’m not putting this very well… I..” she frowned again, grasping at his shirt and burrowing her hands in his button border, her knuckles brushing against his bare chest in the process.

 

He smiled, and raised his hands to cradle her face gently. “It’s ok. I know. I don’t doubt us. Ever. I was just curious.”

 

Her shoulders slumped in relief and she smiled, and he bent down slowly towards her face, still framed by his hands, and watched her eyes flutter shut, as she pulled him toward her by his shirt, hand still burrowed in his button border.

 

He loved this mindful little moment, just before the kiss itself; when she had already closed her eyes, so completely trusting, letting herself fall into his hands, waiting – and he had these two, three seconds of watching her lashes brush against her cheek, her lips puckering so slightly and falling open, her breath coming short, anticipating, and he could feel the pull of her through their bond, could feel she felt his breath on her lips, could taste it, and her heart flutter with it, before he would allow his eyes to fall shut, as well, when their lips brushed against another, soft, with the barest of pressure.

 

He was always amazed how relaxed Usagi’s face tended to be. Any other person, himself included, tended to tense up their facial muscles constantly.  Lips pulled taut and rigid, turning hard, jaw set, the ridge between the eyebrows set in various stages of tension – so continuously and rigorously that it usually felt like sweet relief when letting your face go lax for a change… but Usagi…

 

Usagi’s face was always open, relaxed, ready to be pulled from one expression to another. When Usagi’s lips fell open they were pliant, movable, soft and somehow limp, even when she moved them against his. He could feel how the slightest press of his lips on hers would mold them, form them; how the barest of touches would have such an impact on a portion of her body.

 

He loved nothing more than her lips against his. The soft press of her lips as if sculpting her lips onto his, slow, deliberate. The way her lips would catch just one of his, then let go and capture the other, and how her teeth would sometimes brush against his lower lip when she felt he attempted to release her lips much sooner than she’d like. How the kiss was flowing, effortlessly, and how he felt her heart flutter in her chest, the bubbling pressure in her chest and throat and core that he felt through their bond, her emotions flaring up, as if they didn’t know where to go, what to feel, too much, too bright, but so right.

 

This was one of those kisses. His lips formed hers, as if impressing the form of his lips on her mouth, and she opened up with a breathy sigh, welcoming his tongue as he snaked one arm from her face to her waist, pulling her into his lap.

 

She came all too willingly, tangling her hands into his hair, pulling at his roots as he deepened the kiss, as if he wanted to disappear inside of her, and maybe he did.

 

They sat like this for a while, roaming hands and hungry mouths, and one of his hands had slipped beneath the shirt of his that she wore, but it only was when he felt her fingers start to unbutton his shirt that he pulled away, his lips leaving hers with a loud smacking sound.

 

“ _Gnnn_ , please?” she pouted, hands extended as he stood up again, the first two buttons of his shirt now undone.

 

He chuckled, winking at her. “Maybe later?”

 

She grumbled, and let herself fall back on her stomach on the bed, as he went back to rummaging through his book bag and various belongings, pulling out books to stay, and notebooks to go.

 

 She threw him a confused look. “What are you doing?”

 

He looked up, equally confused. “Packing?”

 

“What?” She sat up with a start. “Where are you going?”

 

He cocked his head sideways at her. They’d discussed this yesterday…“My apartment... we talked about this, I need to do laundry? Get some new clothes?”

 

Her face fell into a pout of enormous proportions. “Oh…”

 

She usually didn’t get like this… for all the amount of time they spent together, she had no trouble being apart, whatsoever, would use the time apart with one of the girls, or even Naru, gloat at the opportunity to get the juicy gossip that she only got to hear when his ears weren’t listening in, too. But today... he did feel it, too… There was something in the air… he didn’t know what it was, but it made them both feel as if they shouldn’t be away from each other today.

 

Which is why he was not-so-secretly very relieved, when she immediately asked, “Can I come? I mean… Chibi-Kiju’s gonna be out for the day, anyway, and I… um.”

 

“ _Of course_!” he shot out, directly, and blushed, sheepishly. “I mean…sure. Um… didn’t you need to write an essay, though?”

 

She rolled her eyes, in a ‘duh’ kind of way, and ‘who’s thinking about schoolwork on a _Saturday_ , was she him?’, and he chuckled, telling her to get dressed, then, he didn’t have all day, these were easily three machine loads of washing ahead of him, with a cheeky grin on his lips.

 

She hopped off the bed and out of the room to shower, claiming she was a normal person who sweats in heat, other than him, as he finished packing up his big duffel bag that he usually used for carrying his belongings to and fro between his apartment and his home…

 

Maybe they really should look for an apartment for the two of them, if Ikuko allowed it? Somewhere really close by? But, no… He shook his head, decisively. Not with Chibi-Kiju around. They wouldn’t leave the Tsukinos alone with her. Someday, then… Maybe he should just downsize and bring everything essential here? He really didn’t have that much stuff, minimalist that he was, and then he could rent out his apartment, to save up on money when they did go apartment hunting… Hm…

 

She was done impressively quickly, standing on tiptoe in nothing but her underwear in front of her wardrobe to fetch between her summer dresses, which she had already put in the back of it in exchange for her autumn attire, and pulled out one he was pretty sure actually belonged to Minako. A thin, sleeveless, mint colored dress with a bow at the back of it. But he could be mistaken – they tended to share clothes all the time, the two of them. Might just be it was hers and Minako had borrowed it for an extended time. Who knew these things?

 

He hefted his large duffel bag across his shoulder, and they were off into the hot and incredibly humid air. Since his girlfriend was involved, though, the five minute walk to his apartment took them on a two hour detour to ice cream and the park, and they were now on their way to the Crown and Motoki to just ‘say, “Hi” quickly and see how hung-over he is?’, which Mamoru was sure was code for milkshake.

 

And possibly a deep need for air conditioning, as he worried again about the flush of her skin. She really didn’t do so well in the heat.    

 

This was where they were headed, when suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the sky broke.

 

Out poured water as thick as one could imagine, drenching their sweaty forms in mere seconds with thick heavy warm drops of summer rain in autumn, which felt just that tiny bit cool on exposed, slightly sunburned skin.

 

Usagi shrieked and they took off running, but before they had time to find shelter the damage was done. They were both drenched from top to bottom. Mamoru heaved, having run after her - she was faster than him, always, even without half his now wet wardrobe hanging from his shoulder, but caught up to her as she slowed, suddenly, to a walk.

 

He slowed down to a jog and came up next to her, looking at her bewildered, through the thick wall of heavy rain.

 

She shrugged, an amused half smile on her damp face, hair slack and wet, her fringe sticking to her face in thick wet curls. "It's kinda pleasant, don't you think?" She smiled. "We're drenched now anyway."

 

He blinked at her and then chuckled, running a wet hand through wet, ebony hair that had grown too long again.

 

It _was_ pleasant. Warm rain on sweaty, sticky skin. A breeze that came with the storm cooling them down.

 

It rained heavier, and heavier, and they just stood there, letting it all come.

 

What could they do to change it, anyway?

 

He laughed, shaking his head at her, and she grinned up at him, scrunching her eyes shut a little against the raindrops that tangled in her eyelashes.

 

They didn’t go the Crown, then, drenched as they were, but walked, hand in hand, in a leisurely pace toward his apartment through the heavy rain, while around them people hurried to get out of it, and others with umbrellas looked at them strangely.

 

It was inside his apartment building, stepping foot into the elevator – after he’d looked at her completely wet form, as if she’d stepped into a tub with all her clothes on,  and laughed at her giggling face, that his mood turned.

 

The imagery, the opening sky, falling down on them, unstoppable, suddenly didn’t seem a laughing matter to him anymore.

 

Suddenly, he felt desperate, as if this were an omen. As if the sky pouring down were a sign for all the horrors to come.

 

He looked at her, eyes widening, and he had a moment then, in which it felt to him as if she were disappearing, flickering away. Panic shook him for a moment, and she looked up, startled, noticing his emotions, just as he crushed her to him, wet clothes be damned, as if he had to keep her in this world like this.

 

His heart was thumping so loudly in his throat he could taste it, and Usagi wound trembling hands around his back.

 

“…Mamo-chan?”

 

They both felt it, then.

 

He saw it, like a lucid dream – blood skies and a hurricane, destroying it all. His dream. Just that he wasn’t sleeping. And then a new bit in it. A golden queen, standing amongst the ruins, crying and laughing all at the same time. Like a vision – just a moment.

 

 Was this it? Was it about to start?

 

Not now. They still had time. Not much.

 

Her eyes widened and she gripped at his arms, her fingers clawing into his bicep.

 

The fear lodged itself into his throat, an odd, vague sensation, as he clutched at her more tightly. As if the very Earth was calling out, seeking refuge, seeking something grounding that he just couldn’t give it without her.

 

But much larger was the fear that gripped him, as he looked down at the crown of her head.

 

_Please, no. Please not again. I need her. Don’t take her from me._

 

It was the panic acting, but suddenly, he was desperate, needing. He needed to feel her, needed to make sure she was here, she was his.

 

He dove down, meeting her halfway, grabbing underneath her bum to lift her up, mold her against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her drenched clothes slipping against his noisily. Her face was damp, as was her hair that wound itself around them, sticking to skin, as well as her hands that slipped into his dripping hair, grabbing at it, holding his face to hers so she could attack his lips.

 

It felt desperate, and it was feeding right back to her, and so she was gripping him harder, her mouth and tongue turning more demanding, and she writhed her hips and panties against his hardening front, as he ground her into the wall of the elevator like a drowning mad-man.

 

He had enough wits left about him to stumble out of the elevator, as it arrived on his floor, gracelessly and almost falling, but never dropping her.

 

He was dimly aware, as Usagi ripped her mouth from his, that she was apologizing to someone – someone must be on the floor with them, but he had no brain cells left to take notice, instead his mouth lodged onto her neck, as he pushed her against the door of his apartment.

 

She groaned, and slipped a hand between them, down his pants, and _ugh_ – This time his knees nearly buckled as she came in contact with his crotch momentarily, but that wasn’t her destination, her hand slipped further…

 

 _Why… why would she…?_ He frowned into her shoulder, licking the rain off her exposed skin.

 

Her hand wriggled further, he felt her growing frustrated, but couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out what she wanted.

 

“Keys,” she rasped between moans. “In your pocket. Mamo-chan. We need to – _Uugnn_.”

 

Her voice gurgled, as he bit the spot right beneath her jugular, the one that made her come, sometimes, when he licked it while moving inside her. God, did he need to be inside her…

 

“KEYS, Mamo-chan,” she yelped, eyes rolling back into her head, as he ground himself against her crotch.

 

Right. Still outside.

 

He fumbled for his keys blindly, missing his pocket, mouth at her throat, licking a path to her cleavage…

 

He managed at the third try, and equally blindly thrust the damn thing at the door – miraculously it opened, and they stumbled in.

 

He didn’t bother with his shoes – in fact he forgot about them completely, and instead just carried her straight towards the bedroom on shaky legs, almost falling, losing his balance, as she pushed his heavy bag from his shoulder and it landed with a loud, wet thud on the plushy carpet.

 

He laid her, wet dress, wet hair, shoes and all, onto his bed, and started to peel off her wet clothes frantically – his mouth following his hands, determined to drink every last drop of rain from her skin himself.

 

He immersed himself in her wildly beating heart, the flush of her skin, the ragged breathing marking her arousal, the way her legs clenched together slightly as she became wetter and wetter, how she ground herself into him, clawing her fingers into his damp skin, feeling into her needs and urges – bringing his lips wherever she craved it most.

 

As deeply inside her emotions as he was, he hadn’t noticed at all how she had managed, but in moments he was almost as naked as her, his drenched and wet dress shirt hanging open, buttons everywhere, pants pooled around his ankles, stopped by the shoes he still wore. He kicked them off, the pants alongside, and kneaded his hands into the soft, damp skin of her hips, as he buried his tongue between her slick, slick folds.

 

The cry that exploded from her lips elicited repeated loud banging against the wall, from the apartment right next to his.

 

He didn’t care. He’d make this last for the rest of the bloody day. Draw it out as long as he possibly could.

 

It was utterly insane, he knew it was, but somewhere in the back of this mind was this voice that told him …  Whatever danger had been lurking for them, whatever these months had been leading up to, it was starting, right now.

 

This might be the last he had of her.

 

L

 

Tomoe walked slowly to the window in the dark confines of his bedroom, and looked out into the shadows and creeks that night turned his backyard into. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cat, its paws clawing into the tree. He drew the curtains shut with a sigh, and slowly started stripping out of his clothes, his fingers working the buttons of his white shirt quickly.

 

Alone. Finally.

 

He breathed a relieved sigh. He was tired, so tired of it all.

 

“Because you primitive, disgusting little rodents have no power of endurance.”

 

Well, as alone as he would ever be again, he thought, sighing even more, as he opened the buckle of his belt and slipped it off.

 

This was why he nearly, very nearly, shrieked and jumped, as another voice joined the chorus in his head.

 

“Go on, take all of it off. Let me see you.”

 

For a second he thought this was it. He was schizophrenic after all. He was mad.

 

Before he turned. Whirled around, his open, white shirt flying about him.

 

In the armchair in the corner by his room, only lit by the soft yellow, dimmed light that came from behind him, sat a woman. Clad in nothing but a white shift, long golden hair that cascaded down in waves, becoming darker and darker at the tips. Gold. Sand. Copper.

 

The look in her eyes so piercing, superior, demanding.

 

His heart beat wildly. Had they discovered him after all? Who was this?

 

For once Germatoid was silent, as well. Taken by surprise, just as he.

 

“It’s very intriguing, your little experiment,” she said. Her voice was like honey, but edged. “And you. I’ve never met anyone like you. We are alike.”

 

He blinked. _Who was this_?

 

It wasn’t his mind that solved the puzzle, of course. Even he admitted that his human mind was limited. Not psychic like Germatoid’s, who recognized the darkness in the woman immediately. Like a twin, recognizing its equal.

 

Souichi Tomoe frowned, narrowed his eyes at the woman sitting half naked in his bedroom.

 

“You carry Chaos in you, too.”

 

She laughed. It sounded malevolent, sneering.

 

“Chaos,” she repeated, a soft smirk around her lips. “I like that term.”

 

She got up slowly, rising with the elegance and air of royalty. He stood rooted to the spot as she walked around him, looking him up and down.

 

He drew a quick breath as her cold hand touched the warm, naked skin of his chest, and she raked her nails across it, just barely.

 

“’Carry it’, you say… It doesn’t consume you, either, does it?” she said, a gleam in her eye, and wonder in her tone. “We _are_ alike. I wouldn’t have thought it possible. In a mere human no less.”

 

Then she pushed him, without moving her hand. Like a wave of energy that pummeled into him, pressing all the air from his lungs as he fell, flew, plummeted to the opposite wall of his bedroom.

 

He pressed his eyes shut in reflex, but the impact never came. He opened them, blinking.

 

With a flick of her wrist the woman held him hovering in the air. A glare, authoritative, in her eyes.

 

“But you have no power. None. You are _weak_.”

 

She spoke the last word with a sneer, like a curse, stressing the consonant with force.

 

“You are a puppet,” she whispered, inclining her head ,as she lowered him, slowly, with a soft wave of her hand, her voice adopting a strangely seductive tone that ran a shiver down his spine.

 

His gaze hardened. He blocked out Germatoid’s leer of approval.

 

“What do you want?”

 

The quiver in his voice frustrated him endlessly. Especially because it made her smirk only widen, as she lowered her chin to her chest.

 

With another flick of her wrist, he was petrified. He stood stock still, couldn’t move a muscle, not even breathe, as she moved around him once again, mustering him.

 

She brought her lips to the shell of her ear, leaning up only slightly. He felt her breath running down his neck.

 

“The same as you, it appears.”

 

He would have frowned, if he could have moved any muscle in his body. Which goal did she mean? The one he followed for the Death Busters, the destruction and terra-forming of this planet, bringing Chaos to Earth – or destroying Chaos, ultimately.

 

She cocked her head.

 

“The latter,” she said.

 

His eyes – the only thing able to move in him, currently, whipped to hers. Mindreading?

 

She sighed, and flicked her wrist again. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, clutching his chest as he heaved, deeply, gulping in air.

 

“But you seem to know as well as I that for that, destruction is inevitable,” she said, as she sat back down, lowering herself back down in the shaded armchair he had found her in.

 

“It is intriguing to see, that you had the same idea as I. Combining Chaos and Senshi power in order to control it, and destroy it. But you’re not thinking far enough, little puppet,” she whispered.

 

He frowned, and closed his eyes, confused, thinking, for just a blink of a moment.

 

When he opened them back up the armchair was empty.

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna hear some creepy music for that Tomoe/Galaxia scene, I wrote it while listening to the following two songs: ‘The Turing Test’ by Ben Salisbury, and ‘Fresh Blood’ by Kyle Dixon. ;)


	22. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks, as always, to my wonderful, amazing beta, uglygreenjacket, for helping me on this ride. You’re the best, love!
> 
> This chapter took me a week longer to write. A) because my semester ended with a bang early this week, and B) because this chapter was crazy hard to write, even though everything had been plotted out.
> 
> I’m a bit afraid the point has come where you’ll start hating me, tbh.  
> But well… the stakes are high, here.
> 
> As some of you know, I’m cross-posting this on AO3 and FF. And on AO3 one has the option to flag stories with warnings. One of them is “Major Character Death”. Well, the time has come (Yugen has about 10 chapters left, btw, we’re nearing the end) that this starts applying. So you’re warned.
> 
> As it is though, it’s not as gore-y as the goo attack aftermath was.

L

 

Usagi smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle in her dress, goose bumps appearing on her skin. Temperatures had dropped from summer to fall within the night, or so it felt to Usagi. While the crazy rain of yesterday broke on sweaty skin, the heat as thick as in summer, today she shivered, as if the weather had decided to pass fall altogether and head straight for winter, and she regretted not having dressed warmer.

 

Her dress wasn’t revealing at all, but it still made her feel quite naked weaving through the throngs of official and important looking people in the backstage area of the Suntory Hall concert venue. Most of them wore suits and modest dresses, holding their instruments tightly, some of them going off on stage to tune.

 

Usagi hadn’t realized the Three Lights would be accompanied by a classical orchestra tonight. Chibi-Kiju, clutching her hand, was all aflutter for it. Shingo, next to them, was not so impressed, or at least he acted it, like he always did, the little brat.

 

She poked him in the shoulder and he started retorting, but flushed bright red when an old man in a frock and a big bald spot on his head shushed him with a smile.

 

“Oh my god!” Minako whispered excitedly, dressed to the nines in her elegant and shiny golden dress. “Do you know who that was?”

 

Usagi looked at her blankly, and Shingo must have looked similar, at least Minako rolled her eyes at both of them.

 

“Albert von Garajan! The famous conductor!”

 

Both and Usagi and her brother shrugged at each other.

 

Minako tutted, and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Such philistines.”

 

While Minako and she took the “kids” backstage– Shingo had gone berserk when Mamoru had said that, pointing out his newfound height, while Usagi pointed out he was only allowed here because  Mama had allowed it, just like Chibi-Kiju, to which he’d glared fiercely – to meet the Three Lights, Mamoru and Makoto were out getting snacks. Ami and Rei had both declined coming, saying a pop concert wasn’t really their thing so much to go and get additional tickets, but now, seeing all these classical instruments, Usagi was afraid they’d really have enjoyed it, after all. But, well, they had six tickets, and thus one to spare, and Shingo had been so lame at covering his excitement when Usagi had invited him to come.

 

Still, she contemplated calling Ami. She was in her lab tonight, at Infinity, which was pretty much next door, here in Roppongi. Ami could basically walk right over in five or ten minutes, if she wanted to.

 

Right now, though, Usagi was about to tsk right back, asking Minako since when _she_ was so culturally educated to know such a thing , but blinked and waved, when, to her surprise, she spotted Haruka in the well-dressed crowd behind the curtains.

 

“Why hello, Koneko” Haruka smirked, dressed smartly in a suit herself, and Shingo lifted an eyebrow at both Usagi, and Haruka’s flirty tone.

 

Right, Shingo had never met Haruka.

 

Shingo’s brow furrowed even more when Haruka bent down and Chibi-Kiju wrapped her head in a hug with her pudgy little arms and gorgeous smile.

 

Haruka patted Chibi-Kiju awkwardly but smiled, a small blush on her edgy, attractive face, and Usagi had to giggle a little behind her hand, at the tough big woman melting under the fingers of this charming little four-year-old.

 

She had to say, Haruka did look good with a child. It suited her.

 

Minako giggled, as well. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a pop music fan, Haruka.”

 

But Haruka just blinked, confused, while Minako blinked right back, cocking her head, motioning toward the Three Lights in concert poster that hang plastered about the place.

 

“Ahh,” Haruka made, nodding, and pointed out the line beneath. ‘— accompanied by the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra’

 

“Michiru’s the concertmaster,” Haruka shrugged.

 

Usagi furrowed her brows in confusion, until Minako leaned over, explaining that the concertmaster was the First Chair in any orchestra, the leader of the first violin section.

 

“Ahh,” Usagi made this time, mimicking Haruka almost exactly, and then started to beam wildly. “That’s so cool!”

 

Haruka snorted softly, her mouth lifting in an affectionate half smile. “Well, did you want to come see her?”

 

“Actually, we’re back here to introduce two giant fans to the Three Lights,” Usagi said and giggled, when little Chibi-Kiju whooped loudly, right as Shingo blushed furiously, again, crossing his arms embarrassedly.

 

Haruka laughed, as she already turned to head the other way, and out into the audience. “Right, I’ll leave you to it then,” she said with a wink and a wave, and the girls all waved back, while Shingo murmured to Usagi if Mamoru had anything against her knowing so many hot guys?

 

Usagi rolled her eyes, while Minako dragged them on, when Chibi-Kiju tugged on her hand, and Usagi leaned down to hear her whisper.

 

She couldn’t quite understand her under all the noise back here, and leant closer, asking her to repeat, but Chibi-Kiju just blushed.

 

“Oh, you need to pee, love?” she asked, and Chibi-Kiju nodded, face red.

 

“C’mon,” Minako smiled and extended her hand. “I’ll take you.”

 

Chibi-Kiju nodded gratefully and Minako pushed the girl through the crowd towards the ladies’ room, right within their view. “We’ll be right back!” Minako called behind her.

 

Of course, the second they’d disappeared through the door, was the very moment she spotted Seiya coming around the corner. Usagi scowled, while Shingo went rigid-still beside her.

 

 “Oi, Odango!” he yelled, smirking, and jogged right over, to which Usagi rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same.

 

Seiya looked around her, a little confused, as if he expected someone else to be around her. Shingo was beet red, his voice cracking more than she’d ever heard it before and Usagi had to suppress an amused giggle as he croaked a, ‘Hello’, when Seiya shook his hand.

 

“That's my little brother,” Usagi explained with a shrug at Seiya’s look.

 

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Didn't you say you have a _sister_ who's my biggest fan?”

 

“In the bathroom.” Usagi huffed. “You don’t have a minute?”

 

Seiya flinched and looked back toward the stage. “I really need to greet the conductor, I’m sorry,” he said, turning back to her, apologetically.

 

“ _Gn_ ,” Usagi sighed.  “I can't tell her this. She'll be so disappointed.”

 

Shingo, Usagi knew, was still desperately trying to say something, but was too nervous. He started croaking again, and quickly shut his mouth.

 

Seiya chuckled. “Right. Well, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He turned to leave, but then leaned back. “But… you're welcome to come backstage, again? After the show? Introduce your sister to me?”

 

Usagi smiled “I will.”

 

Seiya nodded, pressing his lips together peculiarly, and turned to leave again.

 

He took two steps, before he smiled at her over his shoulder, a small smile, almost shy, and called, “I’m glad you’re here, Odango!”

 

Usagi smiled, inclining her head, and yelled back, “Of course!”

 

Seiya had left the backstage area for the stage when Shingo found his voice again.

 

“Seriously,” he said. “Does Mamoru _know_ these guys?”

 

L

 

Mamoru internally chided himself for the relieved flop his stomach made when Usagi came back into view, a wildly pouting Chibi-Kiju hanging from her hand, Minako and Shingo close behind. It was stupid, he knew that, but ever since yesterday… there was something in the very air, trembling. As if the earth was shivering, outside and inside. Something had shaken it, and it vibrated the feeling into him.

 

And while the panic had calmed down within him now, the effect it had had on him still a bit embarrassing, it wasn’t completely gone, but sat in the back of his mind.

 

He was worried. And it made him more protective than he already was to begin with. It made him fidget, uncomfortable in this room of murmuring people – all talking quietly, yet still creating a hum of nervous energy that kept his senses heightened, the whole place buzzing to his ears.

 

He brought a hand to his collar, loosening his tie just a little bit.

 

Even as Usagi maneuvered herself along the rows of people, who stood up for them to get to their seats, she found his eyes from the distance, looking at him concerned.

 

He set his jaw. He didn’t _want_ to be such a worry-wart that she’d feel it across the bloody _room_.

 

He’d had half a mind to tell her to go without him. At least the pop part of this concert definitely wasn't his type of music, and he really didn't care too much to see the guy who crushed on his girlfriend life on stage... but...

 

It was in the air. He needed to know she was safe, or he'd go insane.

 

He cleared his throat and looked straight ahead, as she lowered herself down in the seat next to him, and took his hand tenderly.

 

He shook his head, and wordlessly handed her the chocolates she’d ordered him to get, which she sighed over gleefully.

 

He chuckled, and exhaled around his useless, neurotic nerves.

 

“What’s with _you_?” Makoto laughed, eyeing Shingo up and down, as he sat in the other seat left vacant next to Mamoru.

 

Shingo, who’d been flushed before, blushed an even brighter shade of red, as he flopped down, trying to bury his head into his neck, the way he ducked.

 

Minako snickered and was about to retort, as she settled Chibi-Kiju in beside her, just as the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers.

 

Mamoru chuckled. Never thought he’d hear a bunch of screaming teenage girls in a philharmonic concert hall.

 

He blinked a bit, when the orchestra filled onto the stage, and a flash of teal-colored hair met his gaze, lowering herself onto the first chair.

 

He threw Usagi a look, who shrugged at him, and leant over to whisper in his ear.

 

Right. This might be his type of music after all. Who’d have thought.

 

And he blinked, again, over the erupting cheers, as the first notes of ‘Nagareboshi He’ were played by a lone harp, so softly, and Michiru started playing the melody on her own, chimes sounding in the background, no singers to be seen or heard.

 

He sat back. Closed his eyes.

 

The song suddenly sounded rather extraordinarily beautiful like this.

 

One after the other, more instruments joined in. First the bass, plucking a soft beat to Michiru’s flowing, gentle melody, then percussion, barely there, and more strings, building up the song until a flute, and then a saxophone joined, the melody by then so haunting that it sounded like crying.

 

It was then, much later, the song as soft as a music box, his throat closing up, that voices joined in, at last. So gentle and quiet, weaving into the orchestra perfectly, as if the song was made to always be played exactly like this.

 

He blinked his eyes back open. They stood in the back of the orchestra, shrouded in darkness, one in the middle, two on each sides, the only thing that was lighted were their hands, gripping microphones as they sung, crooning, purring, almost, into them, swaying synchronized, lips brushing meshed metal slowly.

 

It was mesmerizing.

 

He whipped his eyes sideways, where Usagi and Minako were bent over Chibi-Kiju, who sobbed into her little hands, pressed tightly over her mouth. He felt it in her, the waves of emotions the music stirred in her, hitting her so much harder than they had him.

 

He reached his hand across Usagi, lowering himself from the seat to the ground to get nearer, and touched the little girl’s shoulder, trying to calm her emotions, or at least to understand what the hell was going on with her…

 

Suddenly, as if he’d been warned mere seconds beforehand, his heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened in terror.

 

And then it happened.

 

With an impossibly loud bang, so loud it rang in his ears, blocking them instantly, the roof exploded.

 

The mass panic was instantaneous, as rubble and sparks – a detonation? – rained down on them. He lept from his crouch, throwing himself on top of Usagi and Minako, who both clutched Chibi-Kiju between them, underneath them, and whipped his gaze over sideways and saw Makoto do the same with Shingo, meeting her wide eyes over the cacophony of screams.

 

Around them most people ran for the doors, screaming, ducking, others did the same as them, crouching in their seats, holding their heads and those of their loved ones below, in between the screams, as a considerable portion of the roof caved in, falling in a huge, deadly chunk of steel right into the room, right between them and the stage, burying people, silencing screams instantly.

 

He felt the bile in his throat, smelled the blood and singed skin in the air, when on top of the rubble, two figures landed.

 

Ami’s description of them had been so detailed, he knew who they were immediately.

 

He was paralyzed, for just a second, looking at them and all the chaos in the room that had only just been so peaceful, the harp that lay broken beside its crying harpist, most of the orchestra already running for the doors, Michiru the only one standing up, ready, leaping to help others from the scene. And Seiya, hopping from the stage, leaping toward them – toward Usagi.

 

Usagi ripped his gaze towards her own, pushing him down, forcefully, by the lapels, screaming at him, as he only just realized she’d been doing for a moment.

 

“Get them _out_ , Mamo-chan, _now_ ,” she screamed at him, her eyes wide. He could see blood on her arm – the rubble had grazed her.

 

She shook him again. “ _Now_!” she repeated.

 

Chibi-Kiju cowered beneath Minako, hands shaking, a long wail escaping her that was not fully just because of this situation, but something else as well.

 

He swallowed. He didn’t want to leave her behind. He couldn’t. They’d nearly killed Ami.

 

Yet Usagi’s heart and mind had never been so set. But yes, he understood this was an order. However those two pretended to despise each other most of the time: this was her _brother,_ as well as the girl she’d sworn to protect. She was entrusting him with what she deemed most important, here, and it was an order.

 

He swallowed, once more, looked at her wide-eyed. It was time for him to trust her.

 

He grabbed a trembling Shingo by the collar, and lifted Chibi-Kiju around the waist, at the same time, carrying her like a sack of potatoes, and with a last look at Usagi, he made for the doors, pushing at screaming crowds.

 

“Now, now, now,” he heard the voice of the fair, light blue Senshi, so loud over the screaming and yet so deadly silent, “you are so _very_ hard to find.”

 

He risked a look behind, so deathly afraid the words were directed at Usagi, when he found, just before he managed to push Shingo through the set of double doors and out into the hallways, that they were directed at Michiru.

 

He faltered, just a second, but Chibi-Kiju started crying in earnest, and he continued on.

 

Out, out, out. Get them out first.

 

He held Shingo by the hand as he ran, blindly, dragging the stumbling, falling boy behind him.

 

Get them out, and then get back in.

 

“ _Wait! WAIT_!” Shingo cried behind him, tear-strained, steeling his arms fruitlessly against Mamoru’s strong hold to get him to stop, “Usagi, we have to— _USAGI_!!”, Shingo yelled, his voice breaking in his scream back towards the hall, the desperation and fear for her cutting like knives through the air.

 

Mamoru dragged the boy out of the building forcefully. Police, fire engines and media were already starting to gather, the air lit by flashes of blinking blue and red light, sirens everywhere.

 

He tightened his hands around Shingo’s slender, boney arms, shaking him.

 

The boy whipped his eyes to Mamoru’s, glaring hard through his tears, eyes hateful, looking at him as if he’d betrayed Usagi, as if he’d killed her by leaving her behind.

 

Chibi-Kiju was clutched around Mamoru, and he freed himself from her hold, prying her fingers from him even as she wailed harder, and pushed her into Shingo’s arms.

 

“Bring her _home_. _Now_. Don’t wait,” Mamoru said, his voice like ice, scaring the boy, as he turned to run back into the building.

 

“ _What?! WAIT_!” Shingo yelled, his eyes soft again, terrified again, this time for him.

 

“Tell Ikuko—“

 

No. Mamoru broke off. No goodbyes.

 

“ _Wait_!” Shingo yelled.

 

“Bring her home!”

 

“ _Why_?!” he heard Shingo’s scream, and it vibrated through his heart as the boy’s voice grew fainter, farther away as he slipped back toward the danger. “Why do you keep _lying_ to me?”

 

L

 

Usagi didn’t know why she was so calm, so collected. It was unlike anything she’d experienced before. But she knew… she _knew_ she had to keep her head together.

 

She nodded toward Minako and Makoto – Mina on her way to help Yaten – who had fled in the wrong direction, Makoto to pull the people from the rubble who were still alive, but too injured to escape.  And she glanced back toward Mamoru one last time, seeing him safely slip from the room, before she started climbing down over the rows of destroyed seats.

 

“Now, now, now,” the Senshi in the ice blue fuku said, “you are so _very_ hard to find.”

 

Usagi whipped her head up at those words, her breath hitching as she saw the Senshi slowly stalk toward Michiru. She jumped over the seats, and started to run, but was tackled back down.

 

‘ _Ouumpf_ ’ she exhaled harshly. _Seiya_? He looked at her wildly, trying to get her head down low, to hide her, and Usagi fought him off briefly, to get to Michiru, to _see_ …

 

It was Taiki who jumped in front of Michiru. Usagi yelled, and so did Michiru, for him to get away, and with a lash of her whip, the other Senshi, the dark one, lifted him up by the throat, the black leather cutting into his skin as he rasped for breath.

 

“Nah, nah, nah,” the fair one chided, “I wouldn’t do this, if I were you.”

 

She shrugged at her partner, and without so much as a look toward Taiki, her eyes solely on Michiru, she said, “He’s unimportant. We’re not looking for men.”

 

And with another flick of this whip, Taiki was flung across the room, hitting the far side hard. A few of the people, still fleeing, screamed in terror when they saw him drop to the floor with an unnatural crunching sound.

 

“You’re so very hard to make out, here, you know?” the blue one said. “There’s Senshi energy bubbling in the very ground, hiding you all…. But… Ah, music. Oh there is so much magic breaking from _music_ …” she trailed off, her lips curling into a smirk, her voice falling into sing song, “…and here you are.“

 

She smiled, cruelly, her chin low and her eyes glistening as she held Michiru’s defiant gaze. “My name is Sailor Aluminum Siren. And,” she breathed, her voice cutting like acid, “we’re looking for _you_ , my dear.”

 

She started to stalk toward Michiru, lifting her arms, curling her biceps, and two jewels on the golden bracelets that she wore started to glow, directed at Michiru, and Usagi once again, tried to get at her.

 

“ _No_!” Seiya yelled, at the same time that the room started trembling.

 

“ _WORLD SHAKING_!”

 

This time it was Usagi who pulled Seiya down. She knew better than to stand in the way when Haruka came to the defense.

 

Sailor Uranus’s trademark blast of energy exploded behind her, as Usagi pushed Seiya’s head low onto the floor, as hard as she could.

 

She grabbed her broach, raising it in front of her, as Seiya grabbed her wrist, hard.

 

“ _No,_ ” he hissed, his face so close she felt his breath on her face, “ _Don’t transform_! They can’t get _you_.”

 

Usagi’s eyes went wide. _What? How?_ When behind her, she saw Lead Crow blasting energy into Haruka, and felt the energy of Michiru’s transformation.

 

Haruka was screaming as the fire hit her.

 

And even when Seiya cursed, trying to knock her out, keep her off, Usagi transformed, yelling out the words, performing the routine that felt like forever but was still faster than the bat of an eyelash, to the hungry eyes of the dark Senshi standing a little bit off to the side.

 

Just that then, Seiya.. . _WHAT?!_ … Seiya transformed as well, a curse on his lips. … _Her_ lips?

 

With a yell of his own, that turned from a low baritone to a still low tenor as he shouted it, Seiya’s body turned softer, rounder, clad in black and gold ropes across her waist…

 

But Usagi didn’t have time to _think_ , when the copper haired Senshi – Lead Crow, Ami had said – stalked towards Usagi as if it were Christmas.

 

“CRESCENT BEAM—“

 

“JUPITER OAK EVOLUTION—“

 

“STAR SENSITIVE INFERNO—“

 

Usagi blinked at the last voice, new, unfamiliar, as their attacks hit Sailor Lead Crow straight on, acoustic shock thundering upon impact, and Usagi ripped her arm up, to shield her face with her elbow as the blast threw rubble like projectiles.

 

Usagi’s breath hitched, when from the smoke in front of her a low, amused laugh broke.

 

It cleared in puffs of vapor, and inside stood Sailor Lead Crow, bracelets raised in front of her, completely unharmed.

 

With a flap of her black wings, a pulse of energy went through the room, blasting them all off toward all sides.

 

She felt a gloved hand encase her wrist briefly, as she was flung off, her back hitting the far wall, and she could feel it, the cracking of her rips, the air pulled forcefully from her lungs, as she crumbled right beside Taiki, broken on the floor, and heard Minako’s agonized, choked scream, from across the room, held up by that black whip.

 

And Makoto. Lying still, too still, on the right side of the room, bleeding from a gash in her head.

 

“SUBMARINE REFLECTI—“

 

Usagi breathed a sigh of relief, to hear Michiru’s voice yell her attack. She’d lost sight of her, and Aluminium Siren, but the way it broke off in a choking sound behind the wall of smoke made her gut constrict as she fought to get up.

 

She could feel him first, as Mamoru entered, finding her gaze. He ran toward her, and stopped as she shook her head sharply, pointing toward Makoto.

He nodded, and ran to where Makoto lay bleeding.

 

Sailor Lead Crow didn’t talk, as she strode toward Usagi once again. The other one was the talker, or so it seemed. But the look in her eyes was fierce. Purposeful.

 

“STAR SERIOUS LASER—“

 

Lead Crow sighed, almost annoyed, and with the barest flutter of one of her pitch black wings, the attack was mirrored off of her, sending Seiya spiraling into the rubble.

 

She raised her whip, started shouting, and Usagi closed her eyes.

 

Usagi inhaled deeply, trying to will it all on, all these hours of training. The power inside her. She knew it was there, she _knew_ —

 

Eyes still closed, Usagi began to move. On instinct. Her arms and legs flowing as she started twirling, bending, _moving_ –

 

She felt the glow she gave off, rather than see it. Felt how the energies around her suddenly felt like strings in the air, ones she could make out; this was Makoto –faint, too faint. Michiru, fainter still. And the next one, dark, strong… copper.

 

She opened her eyes, saw the silver streams of hair that billowed from her head as she focused, stopped, pulled, pushed all the silver energy toward it.

 

Sailor Lead Crow screamed, as she was shrouded in white, silver energy, draining the black color from her wings, turning lighter, and lighter –

 

Usagi heard Mamoru’s scream as Sailor Aluminium Siren stopped right in front of Usagi, cocking up her arms, the golden bracelets starting to glow.

 

 She felt the white blasts of energy as they split the air, coming towards her.

 

She wanted to scrunch her eyes shut, but they were wide open, looking straight at what she knew would kill her.

 

It was sudden, so fast, faster than she could blink, that the air around her started billowing, wafting. Like the air on hot asphalt on the horizon, just right in front of her. As if someone was pulling at the very fabric of space, and everything turned slower—

 

Or she faster?

 

She couldn’t understand.

 

But through the wafting, trembling air, as if something pulled it apart, purple eyes, and dark, dark green hair emerged.

 

 _Slower_. Everything went _slower_. _Time_ went slower.

 

The white energy, about to hit her just before, slowed down until it stopped, almost, not quite.

 

Sailor Pluto held her staff in front of her, pushing, pushing so hard she groaned painfully. Against time itself. Holding it off of her. Barely.

 

“Go,” she cried at Usagi, panicked. “Out. Now!”

 

Usagi’s eyes widened, but she felt Mamoru’s hands grab at her, pull her away, Minako’s yell as she carried Makoto on her back. Was dimly aware of someone lifting Taiki beside her.

 

They were almost through the long destroyed double doors, when time sped up again.

 

“ _NOOOO_!” Usagi yelled, desperately, as she was carried out.

 

The beam meant for her had hit Setsuna instead. The shot from golden bracelets hitting her square in the chest, and her piercing scream through the empty hall, just as a kaleidoscope of colors was reflected from a crystal that emerged from her breast.

 

L

 

By the time Usagi had calmed down, still hiccupping in her cries, it had been Haruka who had dragged her farther away.

 

They were rooftops away when they stopped, detransformed.

 

Usagi hadn’t even noticed.

 

Haruka put her on her feet, and Mamoru was at her side, instantly, when fresh tears came.

 

Haruka growled, and started shaking Usagi’s crying form, again.

 

“ _STOP IT_!” she yelled, and when Usagi opened her eyes she saw tears in the corner of Haruka’s eyes, as well.

 

Right. She barely knew Setsuna, had only seen her those few times, when the grail… but Haruka and Michiru…

 

“She died because of me,” Usagi whispered, brokenly. “We left her there to die.”

 

“She would have died anyway,” Michiru whispered.

 

Usagi’s gaze whipped to hers. She was holding what she guessed used to be a white scarf to her throat, completely soaked in red. Minako, looking dizzy, her golden dress not able to hide the bruising, purple tone of most of her skin. And all those burns on Haruka … And Taiki, unconscious, in Seiya’s arms, behind them.

 

Usagi’s eyes flew to Makoto. Unscathed, unharmed, completely healed, and how she held Mamoru up a little, who limped, his leg open.

 

Broken. But they’d survived. Barely.

 

If it hadn’t been for Setsuna…

 

Usagi knelt down on the ground – or the roof, she really didn’t know where they were right now, didn’t care – her fingernails kneading painfully into the grey substance beneath her, bending.

 

Mamoru lowered himself with a painful groan in front of her, put his hand on her chest.

 

Right. Broken ribs. Several. She’d forgotten that.

 

She dissolved into tears again, as Mamoru’s hand glowed golden at her chest, and Seiya and Yaten shifted uncomfortably.

 

“She slowed time, Koneko. She can only do that once in all the history of time, and the price is death. She would have died, anyway.”

 

Usagi blinked, a hiccup lodging in her throat, choking her voice away, even when she could breathe comfortably again.  Mamoru lowered his hand.

 

“She chose this moment,” Haruka continued, her voice growing harsher. “Of all the moments in time. Of the Silver Millennium crumbling, of Silence falling, of any time in the history of time she chose this moment. Do you realize what this means?”

 

Usagi’s eyes were wide, as Haruka stood over her, running a frustrated hand through her blonde, short hair.

 

“You were supposed to die tonight, Koneko—” she whispered, trailing off.

 

Usagi felt Mamoru’s hands back on her at those words, tightening.

 

“You would have died here, had she not stepped in,” Michiru continued.  “It would have been over.”

 

Usagi inhaled, slowly.

 

“C’mon, guys.” Makoto whispered. “Ami’s waiting.”

 

And exhaled again.

 

“And _you_!”

 

Usagi jumped, at the edge in Haruka’s voice, suddenly, as she raised her finger at Seiya, and then lowered it again.

 

Usagi looked up, warily, and Mamoru kissed her forehead, then got up with a wince and walked towards the three, limping, tentatively.

 

“Can I?” Mamoru said, motioning toward Taiki.

 

She didn’t see Seiya’s reaction, but she saw him lower Taiki, and Mamoru’s hands once again shining gold.

 

“You know these Senshi, right? You could have _warned_ us,” Haruka hissed at Yaten, while Mamoru worked.

 

Yaten hissed right back. This wasn’t their planet. It wasn’t their problem, was it?

 

Seiya shushed him.

 

Usagi inhaled again. ‘Not _their_ planet’…

 

She blinked.

 

 She was slow on the uptake, sometimes. She shook her head when she realized what all of the others obviously had realized before her.

 

The Three Lights were the Senshi of Kinmoku. She hadn’t gotten that, before.

 

Her throat constricted again, and she jumped up, running at them. Only to fall back on her knees, right in front of them, bawling like a baby.

 

Yaten jumped away, surprised.

 

“I’m sorry,” Usagi cried. “I’m so _sorry_!”

 

Mamoru’s hands whipped away from Taiki and back to her. Yaten looked at her, confused, and then at Seiya, who started to talk, but she interrupted him.

 

She was crying, hysterically, the sobs wracking through her body, but she pressed the words out. She needed to say it. It _needed_ to be said…

 

“I’m _so_ sorry. I’m _so sorry_ we didn’t save Kinmoku when there was still time. I’m so sorry we didn’t come. I—“

 

Both of them went ghostly still.

 

Seiya and Yaten looked at each other, suddenly pale, until Yaten’s gaze hardened to a frightening glare.

 

“…What _exactly_ are you saying?”

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY GUYS! I LOVE PLUTO, I PROMISE! She died a martyr. But this is Stars, here. And you know how this story goes… 
> 
> Please don’t hate me?  
> And let me know what you think as I go hide in the corner?
> 
> ALSO, on a side note: Some of you probably recognize the character Albert von Garajan from episode 180. I contemplated using the original person, here, that this character was supposed to allude to in the first place: Herbert von Karajan, Austrian conductor, most brilliant and famous one of the 20th century, but as he’s dead already, I decided against it. But anyway, in case you guys didn’t know that little piece of trivia from the series, there it is ;) (Plus, the Japanese ADORE Herbert von Karajan. The venue I picked for this chapter, Suntory Hall? It is, like all sites and places I picked in Ikigai and Yugen, an actual real life existing place in Tokyo, and this particular one is literally located at a site in Roppongi named Karajan Square –カラヤン広場.)


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, that warning I gave last time? I’m not gonna give you any new ones, just that it stands for the entire rest of Yugen. Stakes are high, shit is going down, and can drop any time, any chapter, now. I’m taking you on an emotional roller coaster from now on, for the next (and last) eight chapters or so.
> 
> Please don’t hate me? I promise I know where I’m going with this?
> 
> Also, I hope you all remember Ikigai semi well, lol. The third scene is connecting a loooot of dots, and back-referring to lots of stuff that happened there.
> 
> And as always, my eternal thanks for my bestest darlingest beta uglygreenjacket, and PLEASE GUYS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

L

 

Seiya had the urge to block his ears, to leave the room, anything to get away from Yaten’s pissed screaming. He was overwhelmed, he didn’t know what to think, he couldn’t deal with this.

 

But that wouldn’t help, would it?

 

Yaten didn’t want anything to do with this, had started blaming them. All of them. They’d left the scene, Taiki conscious but not fully recovered, and Yaten’s pride refused to stay a minute longer, as Chiba had started to explain what had happened with Kinmoku, started talking beacons and Chaos and pacts, haltingly, rushed, and Makoto had urged them to come with them, let one of their other Senshi explain it all. They’d left, without giving Taiki the chance to be healed completely, and with Yaten screaming bloody murder.

 

 _It was their fault, they could have stepped in, they left us to die_ , he kept repeating. Why should they lift a bloody finger, now? Why should they put themselves in danger to save _their_ planet?

 

Seiya had tried to stay calm, to just let Yaten burn through all his anger that he could, _of course_ , understand. Of course he understood. And while he got it, he wouldn’t have let Kakyuu go to the rescue, either, were the roles reversed, the feeling stood: There were people they now knew to have come across watching the last billows of their burning house, with all their family and loved ones in it, outside with a small fire extinguisher that probably might have done only a little, but maybe a lot, and they’d been too scared to use it, to be killed in the fire as well.

 

He had laid Taiki down on the couch who had mumbled something that Seiya understood as ‘just let him scream it all out for a moment’.

 

But that moment had been unbearably long, and Seiya wasn’t the most temperate of all people. He wasn’t equipped to just stand this level of anger.

 

He blew his fuse as well.

 

“Right, you ignorant idiot,” he hissed, “this may not be our planet, because _NEWSFLASH_ OUR PLANET IS GONE, but it’s OUR _FUCKING_ _GALAXY_ THAT’S BURNING HERE, AND WE _ARE BLOODY SENSHI_. And… and…”

 

Yaten glared at him. Eyes spiteful, loathing, and so, so hurt.

 

Seiya halted, clawed his fists into his hair as he towered over Yaten’s smaller, hissing frame. He tried to compose himself, a little, breathing hard, before he continued.

 

“You saw that. You _saw her_ …” Seiya boomed, yet tried to get to Yaten, somehow. “…the silver hair, the glowing eyes, the power coming off her every pore, when she danced – you’re right, Yaten, you’re right, she _is_ a crystal holder- you saw what she almost DID, she…”

 

Yaten interrupted him, glowering. “Starlights. We are Starlights, not Senshi.”

 

Seiya set his jaw, glowering right back. “Same thing.”

 

“Really?” Yaten scoffed, eyebrows raised, mockingly. “So, how come the Animamates aren’t looking for _us_. Cause last time I checked they’re _not_. … We need to find our princess and that’s it. We don’t need them.”

 

Seiya shook his head, deflated, calmer.

 

“That’s not the point,” he mumbled.

 

“Well, what’s the fucking point then?” Yaten bit back.

 

“ _The point is they need US_!” Seiya yelled, and a beat of tense silence followed, in which both of them breathed hard.

 

That was, until Yaten exploded. “ _THEY_ DIDN’T HELP _US?_! THEY SAW KINMOKU _BURN_ AND _THEY LET IT_! WHY THE _FUCK_ SHOULD WE HELP _THEM_?!”

 

Nothing Seiya could have said would calm Yaten down, so he was relieved, when it was Taiki’s voice that cut the silence that followed.

 

“You would have acted the same way,” Taiki said, quietly, and with some effort, as he held his side, bent over the arm of the couch. “No, you would have done less than them.”

 

He groaned a bit when he finished, still extremely hurt. They’d left before Chiba had the chance to finish his job – however baffling it was to Seiya that the guy even COULD do what he could…

 

Yaten glowered at Taiki. As if all of them were traitors.

 

“You’re the one who keeps pointing out that this is not our planet. That this doesn’t concern us… “ Taiki continued calmly, face blank. Diplomatic. Like they were trained to since birth. “If you’d seen footage of Earth being gutted and attacked, already destroyed, by Chaos. An unstoppable, contagious force – would you have gone? Would you have taken Kakyuu and come here? To help, knowing it was suicide, knowing it might spread to your world if you did?”

 

Yaten blinked.

 

“Would you?” Taiki repeated.

 

Yaten breathed hard, glared, and Taiki hefted himself up on the couch fully, groaning.

 

“And still…” he ground out between his teeth, “…they sent out this beacon. Led us here – at the cost of _them following_. They saved our lives, Yaten. In the end they did what they could. They did more than they had to…” he trailed off, and Seiya inhaled deeply.

 

“And at least Tsukino-san even feels badly for not doing even more…” Taiki pointed out.

 

“Even if. What’s it worth, then?” Yaten said, brokenly. “We don’t know what happened to them.   _No one_ is here. _And_ we can’t find Kakyuu…” he stopped, and his face twisted up, and Seiya took a sharp intake of breath when he saw the angry tears glistening in Yaten’s eyes, as he kicked one of the rubbish dining chairs that came with the apartment.

 

Yaten didn’t cry often. It twisted Seiya’s heart every time he did.

 

“It might be hard to accept, but we owe them our lives. We owe them _Kakyuu_ ’s life, wherever she is. And you _know_ she’s alive, you know it in your heart.”

 

Seiya exhaled. He hadn’t understood that idiom in this human language before; _silence so thick you could cut it with a knife_. He did, now.

 

But Taiki was right. She had been close tonight, he knew it. He felt it, right as he began singing, right before disaster struck, he felt it. Kakyuu was here, somewhere.

 

Yaten set his jaw. “Right. If you’re so easy to forgive... well, I’m not there,” he said, eyes hard and tight.

 

He stormed towards his bedroom, and stopped, before he disappeared. “I want nothing to do with them,” he spat, and then turned back to them.

 

“And I want _you_ —“ Yaten pointed at Seiya, but meant both of them, “to have nothing to do with them either.”

 

“Princess first. Princess always first, remember? We find Kakyuu. We protect our own,” Yaten said, before he banged the door of his bedroom shut, leaving them to listen to muffled noises of anger wafting out from the inside.

 

L

 

Kaorinite slipped a receipt across his desk, talking about errands and new petri dishes and finances, then disappeared.

 

Tomoe glanced at it, before crumbling it between his hands and slipping it in the pocket of his lab coat.

 

_Growth at 62%._

 

Right. They didn’t even need to _do_ much anything, anymore. With those Senshi power expelled against _each other_ , the air oozed of energy his substance could absorb. A few attacks still, and they were set to let Pharaoh 90 loose on this world.

 

It couldn’t go better.

 

His throat constricted.

 

He had to hurry. He had to get Hotaru ready.

 

‘Weakling. Pathetic,’ came the prompt answer from his mind, at the prick of shame he felt.

 

 _Right_ , Tomoe thought, biting back his stab of emotions. Germatoid was right, as he sometimes was.

 

No. There was no time for feeling guilty.

 

L

 

Training was the bleakest affair it had ever been, only a day after Pluto had died for Usagi.

 

They were all shaken, but Haruka had insisted. Now more than ever, it was important to have Usagi focus. Extend on the breakthrough she’d had with her powers during yesterday’s battle.

 

Rei had come with them, glamoured the whole place and all of them off to the nines, exhausting herself before she’d gone home and left them to it. They were taking no chances – even when, now, Usagi was instructed to just grab at her powers but not expel, they’d learned their lesson.

 

The Animamates could smell out Senshi power when it was used, if it weren’t glamoured away completely – which was almost impossible to do, and meant Rei basically had a 24/7 job, now.

 

But it went horribly, training. And it dragged, for hours.

 

Usagi wasn’t in the mood to dance. She was in the mood to cry, and Mamoru could completely understand.

 

Michiru was more than sympathetic, grieving, as she was, herself, but still he could feel the frustration. The need for results. The need for hope that they might win this fight.

 

It went a little better when Michiru changed the music. Away from the tunes they usually danced to, and more toward melancholy, angry songs.

 

When Usagi could exhaust herself, kick the air, grunt and huff.

 

But it really just made her more angry, and less precise.

 

“ _No_ ,” Haruka growled. “Again. Shadow his moves, feel the difference in you and him.”

 

Usagi let out a growl of her own, but bit back her usual exasperated mantra that was never of any use, but he felt vibrating off of her. That she felt no difference. That they were the same.

 

Instead she concentrated, as they moved, in sync and next to each other, yet not touching, to the most melancholy song Michiru had picked out, yet. Classical. Schubert.

 

He closed his eyes, moved with her, mirroring, echoing what he felt through their bond. Tried to show her, where her pool of energy resided.

 

Grab, grab, pull. Up, up, out, then stop.

 

She growled, miss-stepped.

 

“ _Again_ ,” Haruka ordered.

 

They all sighed, even Michiru, who got up to prepare the tea – the usual sign that training was coming to an end.

 

Usagi inhaled deeply, and then expelled all air in a quick huff, as she balled her hands to fists but got back into first position.

 

He looked down at her, reaching out, and she nodded, then sighed, again.

 

Back from the start. He closed his eyes again, and so did she. They moved, one flowing movement of their arms, extending to their legs, around, down, up, circling each other, back to the start.

 

He sank deeper into her sensations, tried to move through her. Sank deeper still, to the point he didn’t know where she began and he stopped.

 

Slow, slow, deeper. Pull, pull, _there_.

 

He scrunched his eyes shut when she had it, grabbed at it, mirrored as best as he could, out, out, _out_ —

 

His eyes flew open, when something happened that was not supposed to happen. That could not happen.

 

When the energy he had grabbed at was not hers, but his own, pooling at his hands. Glowing bright and solid in a big shard of light and energy.

 

_What? How—_

 

Michiru dropped the teapot. It shattered into big, spiky pieces on the wooden floor, pooling in the muddy colored liquid.

 

He breathed hard, looked at his hand, incredulously.

 

And so did Usagi, and Haruka, wide-eyed.

 

It was Usagi who broke the shocked silence.

 

“See, I _told you_ there’s no difference” she said, indignantly, her tone wondrous, and … proud?

 

Michiru’s eyes flew to Haruka’s. Wide. Michiru brought a hand to her mouth.

 

He, too, knew what this had to mean. The only thing it _could_ mean. But it couldn’t be true, _he couldn’t be_ —

 

“ _How_?” Haruka asked, hissing, to no one in particular, but probably Michiru. “ _How_ can he be a crystal holder?”

 

He looked at his hands, dumbfounded, blinking, as Usagi latched herself onto his sleeve.

 

_What?!_

 

“ _HOW_?!” Haruka repeated, a little more loudly. Michiru just shook her head, confused, wide-eyed, even as she went to pick up the pieces of the ancient ceramic.

 

Haruka started pacing. Every footfall vibrating through Mamoru’s head, even as Usagi tried to calm him down through her touch.

 

Usagi was awfully collected, completely calm. As if she’d expected it. As if she’d somehow waited for it.

 

Haruka started downright babbling. Collecting the evidence, trying to sort it through. And Mamoru was thankful for it. He wanted answers, too.

 

“I mean… the powers. He shouldn’t even have _those_. But a _crystal_?” she rattled off, exasperated, pacing. “He doesn’t have the power of growth in him, he’s a _man_ , there is no way for him to have grown a planetary star steed, let alone a CRYSTAL?! _How_ …”

 

Haruka stopped her facing, frowned at him, looking pointedly at his crotch. “You are _sure_ you’re a man, right?”

 

He put his hand to the front of his pants, offended. “Of course I am!”

 

Michiru giggled into her hand.

 

And somehow that sound broke the tension. It was the first time any of them had laughed since Pluto…

 

The others seemed to realize the same, as they grew quieter, and he swallowed.

 

“It has to be the Golden Crystal,” Michiru said, quietly.

 

His eyes flew up to her. Of course it would be… He should have put two and two together, himself, but somehow he’d needed Michiru to say the words, couldn’t think them on his own.

 

 _He_ was the holder of the long lost, mythical Golden Crystal? _Him_?

 

“What’s the Golden Crystal?” Usagi asked.

 

He blinked down at her.

 

Right…

 

Michiru started talking. “It had been lost for _generations._ Long before you were born as Serenity, Usagi-chan. It’s—“

 

He interrupted her. Cleared his throat. He should tell that story. It was his.

 

“I…” he started, and flicked his eyes to Michiru. “Can I?”

 

She nodded, waving her hand.

 

He cleared his throat, frowned as he looked down at her. Where did that story even begin?

 

He scrunched his eyebrows together, flicked his gaze out the large window front, briefly. “The Earth wasn’t part of the alliance as it has no Senshi, you remember that, right?”

 

Usagi nodded.

 

“It didn’t have a Senshi, because for _centuries_ the royal line had had no female heir. It had been weird, unnatural, and the Earth’s standing in the solar system had suffered under it. There had _always_ been a female heir, always a Senshi.”

 

He trailed off again. His mother had been the first woman to be born directly from the royal line in 450 years. She’d been coveted, fought over, married off before she ever turned of age, before she ever had the chance to rule. But she’d had no powers, and died before she even turned fifteen, in childbirth, with him … giving birth, again, to a son, not a daughter. Still, just like their medieval future millennia later was obviously destined to be, Terrans back then, as well, had been a proud people, as nations led solely by power-hungry and angry men tended to be. They had felt threatened by no threat whatsoever, and keeping peace had become exceedingly difficult, with Earth rebelling against the alliance, wanting to destroy power if they could not participate in it themselves. 

 

It had been the beginning of the end, that lost Golden Crystal, as well as his family’s, and his own, inability to teach their people not to fear what they didn’t know or didn’t have themselves.

 

And it had been in him? All this time? It had just been _dormant_?

 

He frowned, again. Continued. “The Earth Senshi was said to always be a crystal holder. It was passed down, much, much quicker than the Silver Crystal, obviously, as Terrans are mortals. It was passed on for generation to generation of Earth Senshi until... until it wasn’t. It’s a myth, really. A legend. The Golden Crystal. I always thought it to be a children’s bedtime story. A story they made up, inventing a Crystal of their own because they envied the Silver Millennium theirs…”

 

Usagi nodded, swallowed thickly and took his hand, squeezing. Feeling, no doubt, the raging emotions tumbling through him.

 

“What did it do? What were its powers?” she asked calmly.

 

He shrugged his shoulders widely, lifting his other arm in a gesture that was meant to convey: He had no idea. It had been a myth he hadn’t believed in.

 

Haruka started her pacing back up.

 

“No one knows what it did,” Michiru answered in his stead, shrugging apologetically at Usagi.

 

Haruka gesticulated wildly, on a roll.

 

“Ok... we need figure that one out, I think,” she said, and turned her moving hands toward him. “So… Healing. Roses. Psychometry. Empathy. What else? Talk to me, give me stuff. What can you do? What is this crystal doing in you? Everything you can’t explain. Every little thing.”

 

Uh...

 

He looked down at Usagi, eyebrows raised, and she looked back at him, pursing her lips.

 

“He heals, yes. But it’s not just that,” Usagi frowned. “He gives me power, passes it on. Strength.”

 

They nod, Haruka and Michiru both. Nothing new there. Thinking.

 

“Anything else?”

 

Mamoru frowned as well, looking at Usagi, not at them, searching in her eyes. “I .. I have this connection. To everything. The very Earth. I think that’s where the psychometry comes from, and the empathy, but it goes farther...” he trailed off.

 

 It was true, of course.  He could sense every living thing around him. Was connected to the world, on its most basic level… He could feel it cry, and ache, and be mistreated, and he could feel every living thing in it…

 

“It’s not as strong as with Usako, but…” he continued. “Ones and zeroes on everything, deeper meaning on anything that… lets me in?”

 

Michiru nodded. “So, Life.”

 

What?!

 

He didn’t register that he’d said that out loud, but Michiru nodded, again, surer this time.

 

“Your power is Life,” she repeated, her voice now confident.

 

Usagi’s eyes grew wide. “That makes so much sense!” she exclaimed, while Mamoru frowned.

 

“You can restore, feel, and probably even give life, in some form,” Michiru said, calmly now.

 

 _What_?!

 

Haruka, eyes wide, turned to Michiru, started discussing, talking right over Mamoru’s exclamation.

 

“That would also explain why he _can_ hold a crystal. And Senshi power. He _has_ powers of growth that way…!” Haruka said, running a hand through her unruly locks.

 

Michiru nodded, inhaling, going with the theory. Talking in a way that indicated loud thinking, more than anything else. That the one thing, on a biological level, that set men and women apart, and the same reason why only women could bear the power of a planet, is because they can grow life…

 

She shook her head, astounded, and turned back to them. “You seem to be able to, as well, Mamoru-san,” she said.

 

He blinked.

 

“Mamo-chan…” Usagi said, pulling, again, at his sleeve. “She’s right. I know she is. It makes so much sense!”

 

He turned it over in his head.  Tried to remember all the times he restored her strength, gave her more. Everytime he healed any of them, tried to connect it in his head. And that time… when she almost died under Kaguya, when … and he kissed her, made her come back … _Had_ she died? Had it not been ‘almost’? And that other time, even before that… the Family Mart, Ail and Ann, the glass shards embedded in her abdomen…

 

Haruka was all business, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“Ok then,” she said. “Let’s assume it’s Life. What’s the second one?”

 

They both frowned at her, and Haruka turned to them, exasperated, as if talking to kids, and did she have to spell everything out?

 

“The second one. C’mon. It’s always two. Always a link. Fire and Spirituality, Wisdom and Water, Time and Space, you know the drill. What’s the second one.”

 

They looked at each other, again. Mamoru exhaled. That was it, wasn’t it? That was all.

 

He blinked. “I… I don’t know.”

 

Michiru nodded, and inclined her head, breathing deep. It was calming, soothing in a way, when she spoke.

 

“Usagi, Mamoru… what has been weird? What’s missing? Think it over.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Mysterious, strange things, yet unexplained between you. Which thing never had an explanation?”

 

Mamoru frowned, yet Usagi’s eyes widened.

 

She looked at Mamoru, then at Haruka. “Dreams.”

 

Mamoru blinked. He was overwhelmed. He… what?

 

“His prophetic dreams,” Usagi repeated, her gaze jumping from his to theirs and back to his. “Like Rei’s… but… Mamo-chan…” she stopped, frowning. “We always assumed _I_ sent you those dreams, from before? The princess ones?”

 

His eyes widened.

 

“But I can’t do that, can I?” she said, slowly. “I dreamed of memories, but… never prophecies, except when I’m touching you. Then I can see them too. But like, the princess dreams… it’s always felt like I’ve been leaving my dream and entering someone else’s? I didn’t send anything to you Mamo-chan…” she said, shaking her head slowly. “ _You_ sent them to _me_. _You_ let me in…“

 

He shook his head, attempting to deny, but faltered… it made too much sense.

 

Haruka exhaled, heavily, nodding. “Well, then. Life and Dream. There we have it.”

 

He jerked, ran a hand back through his hair. All his nervous tics coming out at once.

 

“Ok,” Haruka nodded, collecting herself, then turned to Michiru. “Call Rei, again. Tell her to come back. We need her here.”

 

Michiru’s face fell, and she nodded, leaving the room.

 

“What? What for?” Usagi asked, bewildered.

 

“We need her to glamour you. Like, _completely and utterly glamour you_ ,” she said, exasperated, that impatient look back in her eyes.

 

He blinked, but she didn’t wait around for him to get what she was implying. His mind was too slow through the shock.

 

“It’s safe to assume your crystal has never manifested in this life, yes?”

 

He blinked some more.

 

“You have the power, but not the crystal?” She went over to Usagi, yanked her crystal from beneath her shirt to prove her point. It dangled from Usagi’s necklace in Haruka’s hand, bright, too bright, unnaturally bright.

 

“I… I don’t think so,” he said, faltering.

 

“Yes it did,” Usagi said, and his eyes whipped to hers.

 

“Back then? The glass? Family Mart? When we got our memories back?” She said, and he swallowed, remembering. The way the gold in his hands had solidified, ever so briefly, when he’d healed her. Frantically. And then disappeared again.

 

He’d barely noticed, over everything else that had happened that day. Ail and Ann, Usagi’s almost death, Ami, to the rescue, as Sailor Mercury… And their memories. Rushing at them. He hadn’t taken note of anything out of the ordinary. Was surprised she _had_ …

 

But... she was right.  

 

Haruka growled, frustrated. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear, apparently.

 

He shook his head. “But it went back inside. I don’t have it. It’s not manifest.”

 

Haruka nodded, relieved.

 

“Someone is after us Seed and Crystal holders, Mamoru. But no one would _ever_ look in a male, not for a seed, definitely not for a crystal. Except if its manifest, then it kind of _screams_ target. Even in a male.”

 

Mamoru breathed in, out. He slowly understood Haruka’s line of thinking.

 

“You’re our wild card, Mamoru. And _what_ a wild-card. If we can hide your powers away, glamour them to extinction, no one will know we have another crystal holder at the back of our hand.”

 

He felt it, the flutter, in Haruka. Hope. Bound to him.

 

It felt wrong to him.

 

“I’m...” he started, panicking. “I’m not strong. I’m the backup. I’m the one in the backseat, the one who heels.”

 

“The power is there,” Haruka said.

 

And then she sighed, trailing off, her eyes turning sympathetic, as she looked first at Usagi, then at him. Had trouble putting something hard to say into words.

 

“But… you can’t go back home, Mamoru.”

 

He frowned. What? Was she joking?...

 

Her eyes turned even softer, and his stomach dropped. His eyes flew to Usagi’s… Was she saying…

 

“We _have_ to hide you,” she said, softly. The tone was more alarming to him than had she yelled, again.  “But we can’t hide you next to each other. You make an impossibly big target. You can’t be around each other, anymore. It’s a miracle they haven’t found you, yet.”

 

He gripped Usagi’s hand, her eyes flew up to his.

 

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it before,” Haruka said, apologetically. “The two of you… that big romantic shishi you like to blame? Koneko?” She turned to Usagi, who clawed at his arm, holding on.

 

She, too, knew, what was happening here.

 

“This isn’t some power of love thing like you like to believe, Koneko, that makes you concentrate better when he’s around… “ Haruka said, sighing. “It’s the crystals. They amplify each other. You _actually_ _can_ focus more when he’s around, because your crystals strengthen each other. It’s why you can create bloody transformation mediums and weapons together.”

 

His heart started being wildly.

 

They wanted them apart? In dooming apocalypse? _Two of them_?

 

“But… how… you’re saying she’s stronger when I’m there,” he started, defensively. “And you want me to go?!”

 

Haruka nodded sympathetic, understanding. It infuriated him more than anything else.

 

“I’m saying we can’t hide you like this. You’re targeted. They will find you, together. And …” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I think this situation makes it clear that we can’t have that? Neither of you? We need you as our joker, and we need _our princess safe_.”

 

He swallowed. Looked down at Usagi. The lump formed in his throat, immediately.

 

Usagi, next to him, was tense, silent. Wide-eyed. Her fingers clutched at his arm, tight, too tight.

 

“You’re both exposed like this. There is no power in the world that can glamour you away if you’re near her,” she said, softly, willing him to understand.

 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. They were sending him away?

 

He was _reborn_ to be with her, and they wanted him _gone_?

 

He didn’t notice when he’d started yelling, arguing. He was freaking out, reacting.

 

Haruka nodded, at Usagi, then him, then toward the door of the adjourning room “Go, talk,” she said, and left, herself, toward Michiru, no doubt. Whom she got to keep.

 

He felt the panic in Usagi, even as he kept talking, yelling, even as he dragged her into the next to room, half a mind to drag her out of the apartment, never looking back.

 

L

 

Her head was reeling, her hands were trembling, when Mamoru dragged her out, into the next room. Flinching when she realized she knew this room – it was the one where they’d slept, unconscious, regenerating, while everyone else around them had been still so gravely injured, that horrible night weeks ago.

 

Her ears were ringing, still, from Mamoru’s agitated yells and reasoning.

 

His breathing was harsh, frantic, his eyes hard when she put a trembling hand to his sleeve, clawing into the fabric, trying, but absolutely failing, to calm him down.

 

They couldn’t see each other anymore? _Now_? They were endangering everyone by being together? … _Again_?

 

“We’re _not_ doing this, are we?” he whispered, his hands coming up to grab at her upper arms, and even when it was so quiet, it was harsh, and it rang in her ears, his eyes wild, voice breaking.

 

“I…” she whimpered, frowning. _I don’t know what to think._

 

His eyes grew wide at her inner turmoil, and he let his hands drop from her arms.

 

“You’re…” he swallowed, before trying again. “You’re not _agreeing_ with this are you? You realize what this would mean? What…” he broke up, hands shaking, running one through his hair, inhaling deeply with his eyes to the ceiling, blinking.

 

What this would mean…

 

Usagi swallowed, the lump in her throat growing too thick to bear.

 

If they did this… If everything happened they all said would happen… Galaxia, Silence… If he left, now… they might not ever see each other again. This might be it. Forever, this time.

 

She pressed a hand to her mouth, willing, _trying_ to not let the tears fall that pooled in her eyes, even as she felt sick, so, so sick.  

 

“ _I love you_ ,” he whispered harshly. It sounded like an accusation, as well as begging.

 

She choked into her hand, as thick tears sneaked their way past, after all, but she didn’t allow the heavy sobs to come.

 

Why did this always have to happen to them? Why could they not just be allowed to be happy?

 

“Y-you heard what they said… I-I’m a danger to you when you’re near me. They could find you,” she said, her voice breaking as she said it.

 

“That’s _not_ what they meant,” Mamoru said, still whispering, but rooted to the spot, watching her with wide eyes.

 

No, it wasn’t what they meant. Not only, anyway. _They_ were a danger to _all of them_ , if they stayed near each other. And _he_ needed to be hidden away from her, so he might save them all.

 

 “I’m not doing this,” he said, shaking his head, gripping at his hair. “They can’t make me. There has to be another way to hide us.”

 

She swallowed. The tears were flowing, but silent. “Mamo-chan…”

 

“They can’t! I _won’t_!”

 

This time he growled, loud – it startled her, made her jump – and he turned on the spot, starting to pace, his hand pulling, pulling at raven strands.

 

“Mamo-chan…”

 

He turned around again, swiftly, his hand falling from his hair and digging into his pant pocket, instead.

 

When his hand whipped back out, it was holding something, pinched between his thumb and index finger, holding it out to her.

 

A ring. A matte, silver colored band – white gold? Platinum? – with a pink stone in the shape of a heart, surrounded with tiny white diamonds. Absolutely stunning.

 

Usagi gasped.

 

“Here,” he said, with a gruff, irritated growl, holding it out still, shaking it a little.

 

She didn’t take it. Instead she stared at it, dumbfounded, wide-eyed, her face still wet with tears, though no new ones were coming, stilled from the shock.

 

“What?!” she pressed out, blinking. “Are you _proposing_?”

 

He flushed, beet red. “Yes,” he said, between clenched teeth.

 

“What?! Like this?” Usagi yelped incredulously. “ _Now_?”

 

He didn’t lower his hand, still holding out the ring, but blushed even further, and she could feel his heartbeat like a jackhammer. Was sure she’d notice it even without their bond…

 

“… Apparently…” he mumbled.

 

“How long have you had this?!” she cried.

 

He swallowed, his adam’s apple jumping forcefully. “…A while…” he murmured. “… Too long.”

 

She blinked at him, feeling her own heartbeat hammering. “Why haven’t you asked before?” she asked, breathless.

 

He frowned. “Cause we’re already married,” he said, and at the exasperated look she threw him, continued, “And because we’re both so young. And there was never a right moment,” he trailed off.

 

Usagi exhaled. Looked back at the ring, that he still held out. Felt his raging emotions through their bond, saw his hand faltering, unsure, about to lower.

 

Her voice trembled, when she said,  “Am I getting a bended knee at least?”

 

Something flickered in his eyes, and he closed his trembling lips, when he took a step towards her, towering over her right in front of her, and the panic was flying away from his look but it was intense, so intense…

 

He lowered himself right in front of her, on one knee, and held the ring back out, but said nothing. Just looked at her, with those dark, intense eyes.

 

They were both breathing hard. From the argument, from the situation, from the…

 

She could feel her heartbeat everywhere. In her chest, her ears, her teeth. She was about to reach out, to say yes. _God_ , how she wanted to just say yes, but…

 

Then she faltered, her lip trembling, again, and she got down on her knees, as well, down with him, felt his eyes boring into her with every move and yet his hand kept holding out that ring.

 

She grabbed the ring and looked at it, peeling it from his grip and felt how clammy his hand was, the little tremor in it that resonated through everything she felt coming off of him, turned it around in her hand. She felt the painful, tight constriction of her throat, felt the same in him, beating, growing.

 

She exhaled harshly before she answered, and the silent, thick tears returned.

 

“It’s the same choice all over again, Mamo-chan,” she whispered, her eyes at the ring and not at him. She wouldn’t be able to say this if she looked at him. “It’s us versus the future of our world.”

 

 She felt the pit in his stomach, heard the sharp intake of his breath, when she continued. “We get to remake that decision…” she whispered, low and much too deep for her voice “…are we really gonna make the same mistake again?”

 

She finally looked up, flicked her eyelashes up to look him in the face, and a sob escaped her when she saw the wetness on his face, the look in his eyes.

 

Her voice broke, and trembled. “I’m not that important, Mamo-chan. I’m not more important than the world,” she whispered.

 

His voice broke as well, when he answered, “But you are.”

 

She handed him the ring back, held it out much like he had just before, but he didn’t move to take it.

 

“Ask me when we can?” she said, her voice now the one that begged. “Please? Ask me afterwards.”

 

She knew, of course, that they were both thinking the same thing as he exhaled around trembling lips. There might never be an ‘afterwards’.

 

She held out for a beat longer, until, finally, he took the ring. She didn’t know if it was relief or heartbreak that she felt, as it slipped from her grasp.

 

She lifted her elbow, and started sobbing into it, all the big tears she had managed to hold in before, now freely flowed out of her,  when she felt a harsh tug at her other arm when he grabbed for her hand.

 

It was trembling when he slipped the ring onto her finger, anyway.

 

“Say yes to me, afterwards,” he rasped.

 

She cried harder, laced her hands with his as they sat on the floor, knees touching, and she nodded. Quickly. Jerkily.

 

It felt like an eternity afterwards, when it was really barely a second afterwards, that he nodded, breathing shakily, and she managed to calm down, a little, crushing his, so much larger, hands in her desperate grip.

 

“What are we going to say? To others? Motoki, Shingo?” he asked with a shaking voice.

 

She swallowed, the tears coming faster again. Knowing that they weren’t talking about marriage anymore, but about what they had to do.

 

“That… That…” but she couldn’t get the words out. She couldn’t say it, and instead leaned her head forward, finding his shoulder just as he freed one hand from her death grip and clutched the back of her head to bring her even closer.

 

That they broke up. They would tell people that they broke up.

 

L

 

Usagi didn’t know how there could be any tears left in her, but she kept crying, the sobs wracking her body, hysterically, as she clutched his shirt to her body, trying so hard to muffle her cries with her pillow.

 

Her mother was concerned, hovering in front of her room, helpless. Even Shingo had come up, trying to say something, anything, talk to her, and failed, and then had gotten Ami, instead.

 

Ami had sat with her, for hours. Just sat there, and stroked her hair as she cried and cried and cried, long after he’d gone.

 

He’d left first, with Rei, after she’d arrived and glamoured him. Had packed all of his things together while she stayed behind at Haruka’s and Michiru’s until he’d called, saying that Kenji was driving him down to his apartment with all his belongings.

 

Haruka had driven her home, trying to say something, but Usagi had stormed from her car without a word, banging the door of the passenger side too loudly.

 

She knew it was unfair, that she was shooting the messenger. It wasn’t Haruka’s fault that her existence was constantly cursed by a crystal in her very veins.

 

Haruka had driven off, to Mamoru’s place. First shift of many, she’d said, when Usagi hadn’t answered but listened.

 

The Senshi would rotate watching over him. They couldn’t be too close, not near, as they were targets themselves, even when not quite a bull’s eye like Usagi was herself. So Haruka would stay in her car. Sleep there for the night, be near in case someone did find him.

 

A temporary solution. A dangerous solution, but it had been the best they’d come up with.

 

She’d sent them away. Had collected herself, briefly, far enough to reassure Ami she’d be alright, who’d left with sympathetic eyes.  But the moment she heard the click of the door, the tears had started again, as she cried herself to sleep, clutching at his shirt. Cried so hard Luna whirred around her, as she slipped through a gap in her window.

 

“Shhh, Usagi-chan,” she said in her little voice, thick with emotion. “You’re making yourself sick.”

 

But the tears only came harder, as Luna started licking at her face, trying to catch the tears, trying so hard to comfort her.

 

 It hurt. It hurt so much.

 

This room. The smell of him in every corner. Her mother’s look when Usagi came home, heartbroken. Her trembling voice when she told Usagi how much she’d miss him, too, and of the big scene that Kenji had made, the tight hug he’d given Mamoru when he’d told the two of them. How Kenji had shaken, when he’d told Mamoru to come home, soon.

 

It all felt so empty. Even though her mother was right outside her door, concerned, all her friends ready to come in and comfort her, if only she let them. Luna snuggling close to help her through this, and yet, Usagi had never felt so lonely in her life.

 

She had everyone here, and Mamo-chan was all alone in that empty apartment that he kept saying felt no longer like home, where the only smell around was dust.

 

He’d told her time and time again, how happy he was, here. That he had a family, now, with them, something he’d never had before. How much that meant to him.

 

He’d only told her the other day, that crazy day, the day before yesterday, before that concert, in that very bedroom he now was, on his own, when they were both so panicked without knowing why.

 

He’d made her promise not to leave him alone. That she was his family. That she was his home, that he couldn’t lose her. Had made her promise, as he stroked and licked and pushed into every last inch of her, making her gasp the ‘yes’s’ and assurances.

 

And here she was, having sent him away, not two nights later. 

 

“He’s going to be so alone, Luna,” Usagi sobbed, her voice muffled by the pillow and his shirt, the sobs wracking her harder still. “I can’t, Luna. I can’t. He’s so _alone_.”

 

She couldn’t bear the thought of him so lonely again.

 

She felt Luna’s little paw at her, and the vibration through her warm, soft, furry body as the cat began to whisper, underneath the crook of her arm.

 

“I can go with him, if you want?”

 

Usagi hiccupped, lifted her wet face from the bed, looked at Luna’s glassy, sympathetic eyes.

 

“Oh Luna, would you?” she wiped at her tears, uselessly. New ones kept coming. “Would you do that, please? Keep him company?” Usagi whispered.

 

“Of course,” Luna answered, voice trembling.

 

By the time Luna had slipped from her bedroom, out the balcony and toward a different one like it, Usagi had calmed down a little, and had fallen asleep, his shirt still clutched to her heart.

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Here. I give to you my humble re-imagining of what I perceive to be a more logical version of the break-up arc. As a mutual decision for the “greater good”, with both of them hurting like shit.  
> Also proposal?  
> PLEASE, guys, PLEASE let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, one thing I changed from anime canon: the Animamates don’t stupidly look for Star Seeds in men here. And I made them a lot smarter, and more precise.
> 
> About the why I do this: Well…allow me to ramble briefly about Galaxia and the Animamates in canon, yeah?  
> Galaxia knows, as we see in the Manga, and it would only be logical too, that the star seeds are only in Senshi. This might be pulled into 90s anime logic SOMEHOW as the Sailor Animamates (and Galaxia) for reasons just might not know the civilian identities of the Senshi, and have to go hunting because of that… STILL though… after the first attack, why wouldn’t the Animamates then turn around, even if they wouldn’t know themselves (which in 90s again makes no sense, as they have been Sailor Senshi themselves there, this would have happened to them, too!) at least be TOLD to do so, and attack the Senshi once they come to save the day… well. You see what I mean?
> 
> In fact, 90s made it even MORE illogical, by introducing that Galaxia herself killed MAMORU first... so a) she knew his civilian identity, or could feel it maybe, and b) this could have been made into the ONLY wild card. Galaxia knows star seeds (and the occasional very rare and valuable crystal) are in Senshi. .. Senshi are usually only women, as are Crystal holders. Mamoru’s star seed could have easily been explained as the ONLY wild card in the game, as no one would look for a star seed in a man, if this all made sense. (Which the Sailor Animates still do, in 90s Stars – regularly. Lots of men on the menu there.)
> 
> Yeah. Anyway. So that’s why.
> 
> And, one more final ramble on why I introduce the Golden Crystal the way I do:
> 
> Well.. obviously this has no SuperS, so, I needed a different way to do this… I like the idea that Usagi is the one to recognize his power. She’d drawn him out of his shell before, believes him to be everything there is when he doesn’t. So of course it would be her who saw this all along.
> 
> Also I like the idea of discoveries in general having no shishi about it. That’s why I have them train, meditate, work for their achievements, instead of ‘oops here’s your power up’s, and here, ’now you can miraculously do this and that’. It’s a process – getting better at anything, progressing – and it’s damn hard work, and I’d like to not only acknowledge that but celebrate it, in how extremely outstanding it is what a person can achieve by just sticking with it again and again and again.
> 
> Plus, these are all smart characters, having been the best of warriors for an entire solar system, reincarnated and everything… I wanna give them a bit more credit that canon did. They can put two and two together. Which is ALSO where my talisman take comes from. In the Manga they already had them, so this is where I go from, as well, obviously. I refuse to believe Neptune and Uranus, having dedicated their lives to finding these talismans in the 90s anime, wouldn’t have found out sooner that those things were right under their noses, in themselves. They’re not stupid. They are capable of figuring stuff out by thinking it through. So there.
> 
> Also, obviously I can’t do any SuperS cause I did no Chibi-Usa. That’s not to say I dislike either of those story arcs - even though, while I do like the idea of older Chibs ending up with Helios, there is just something suuuper weird about the thought of the priest of a king romancing said kings TEN YEAR OLD DAUGHTER as a HORSE…. It’s something I can overlook watching the arc, cause well, it’s still Sailor Moon, and I forgive it lots of things, even its weird almost rape-like dream intrusions… but it’s nothing I would wanna write about. So… no SuperS, even if I HAD Chibi-Usa… (Plus… the explanation for having Helios in the first place kinda stemmed from the fact that as a man, Mamoru can’t really wield or house the crystal? Cause it’s supposed to be a woman’s job?… So a male priest does it instead? What? And then in Stars this is all bs again, and instead the golden Crystal is Mamoru’s star seed, so in him all along?.... yeah. No. Mamoru is a crystal holder, Mamoru holds a crystal. No magical shape-shifting priests needed. )
> 
> Ramble out, and now please tell me what you thought of this chapter ;)
> 
> (Also, if you ever wanna get in touch with me, or prompt me, or anything, my tumblr lives under the same name as my fanfiction: floraone ^^)


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you guys, for the vast number of reviews I got on last week’s chapter! I got SO GIDDY about ALL of them!!! It was, in fact, the chapter I’ve gotten the most reviews on, so far. Which was a little baffling – all these chapters with them happily together, and you love the one most where I rip them apart…
> 
> On we go, now, I hope you’ll like what’s coming just as much, and keep in mind, we’re staying intense from now on.
> 
> And, as always, my ETERNAL thanks to my amazing beta-hero, Uglygreenjacket! Thank you so much, love!

L

 

Seiya twirled his mechanical pencil between his thumb and fingers, over and over, staring not very discretely at the blonde head in front of his school desk. He really didn’t even know what the subject was currently, let alone what the teacher was saying.

 

Slumped. She looked completely and utterly defeated.

 

Usagi had been late, today.  Again, or so it seemed. Not that he could tell - he’d skipped school the past two days. Yet apparently not as utterly and spectacularly late as he’d been told she’d been yesterday – that Umino boy really liked to gossip about his friends. Just so shortly after… well he really wouldn’t call it a concert in retrospect. They hadn’t even gotten to finish the last song.

 

He got it. She was grieving. One of her Senshi had died. But… he couldn’t stand to see her like this.

 

And today was the first day he had a chance to talk to her about it, as well. The first day he’d been back to school, after having been buried in interviews and signings and anything Yaten could get his fingers on, to make themselves be heard, now that they’d known Kakyuu to be near. To be _here_ , somewhere, in Tokyo.  … And to avoid them, Usagi and her friends, at school.

 

In fact, Yaten and Taiki were skipping school today, still, Yaten doing a commercial shoot (underwear, Seiya had teased him about it relentlessly), Taiki an interview. Charming their way through fame so they might get even more of a range.

 

And Seiya was glad for it, really. If they weren’t here… it meant he’d have the chance to approach her, talk to her, without hurting Yaten’s feelings and pride in the process…

 

Not that he couldn’t have done it with Yaten there, anyway, and not that the two of them knew perfectly well that’s why he’d insisted to go, today, but… Yaten was hurting.

 

And apparently, so was she. She looked _so sad_ – it didn’t suit her.

 

Aino, in the seat next to Usagi, looked just plain tired, knocked out. And really so did Makoto, even when she kept glancing back over her shoulder towards him. Clearly she wanted a chance to talk, as well.

 

 But Odango was all sad sighs and slumped shoulders, doodling on the side of her desk.

 

He leaned over in his chair, trying to peek around her frame, and frowned.

 

She was doodling alright. Little cartoonish versions of herself and Chiba, scribbling ‘Mamo-chan’ all across it.

 

He slumped back in his chair, dropped the pencil. Sighed.

 

Her eyes had widened when she’d seen him in his chair, as she’d dashed in, and sat down in that seat in front of her that had mocked him, empty as it had been, for nearly an hour, before she’d arrived, out of breath. But afterwards she’d not appeared to even _attempt_ to glance back at him – unlike the other two.

 

The teacher had started scolding, but then took one look at the bags under her eyes, even when she seemed to try so hard to be cheerful, and instead told her to come see her after class.

 

She’d disappeared with the teacher for a little while, Aino staring daggers at him, pouncing, almost.

 

He found them later, outside at lunch, in her usual spot under the tree. Usagi was flanked, on either side.

 

“How are you?” Makoto asked him, voice kind.

 

He nodded at her, shrugging. But his eyes were on Usagi.

 

He scrunched his eyebrows together, noticed, to his dismay, the pools of girls that were starting to hover close to them again, trying to chat to him.

 

He sighed.

 

“Can we talk? In private? The two of us?” he asked.

 

The two girls exchanged glances over her head, and then nodded at Usagi. They both got up, and Seiya nodded at them in thanks. Makoto patted his shoulder, twice, a little hard, and they were gone.

 

Not too far, of course. He still felt their eyes at the back of his head. But what did he expect – he’d done nothing different, were it his princess.

 

He held out a hand to help her up, but she’d already hefted herself up by her knee and they walked down towards… nowhere, really.

 

He blinked, for a second, realizing again that she _was_ the princess of Earth, and this time, what it meant. It didn’t fit the image he had of her. Odango...Was he supposed to treat her differently, now? Your Highness, low bowing, two steps behind, no turned backs?

 

He swallowed. Looked down at her, adorably small as she was, right next to him, walking shoulder to shoulder.

 

It was hard to imagine her as royalty. Even harder to imagine her as a Senshi. And yet… he’d seen her do what he’d never seen anybody manage, before. Another minute, only one of them, anything… the way Sailor Lead Crow had been engulfed by Sailor Moon’s magic… he didn’t know what would have happened, but it had felt the closest he’d ever come to see someone do any damage on them, before. She was by far the strongest Senshi he’d ever encountered.

 

This little slip of a girl.

 

He had no idea how to talk to her now. Everything felt inadequate.

 

Her voice was quiet when she broke the uncomfortable silence between them.

 

“This is weird, isn’t it?” she whispered, almost conspiratorially.

 

“Yeah…” he said, and then pursed his lips. “Does it have to be?”

 

She shook her head, smiling.  A big smile. Full of warmth and dimples. An Usagi smile. “No,” she said.

 

It was the first true smile he’d seen on her today –on the girl that usually had him laughing before the first bell rang.

 

He sighed. Threw her a look again.

 

“You don’t seem like a princess,” he mumbled after a little while.

 

She blinked. Looked up at him, startled. ”How’d you know I was?”

 

He shrugged. “I didn’t. Yaten did.”

 

It caused her to frown into the distance.

 

“He’s pretty smart,” she said.

 

Seiya nodded.  Turned around when they’d once again walked too close to some of his fanclub, and turned – she followed without breaking step.

 

“Yeah, he and Taiki both,” he murmured back.

 

She snorted softly. Not at all unkindly, but he knew that, of course. “And you?” she asked, smiling.

 

“Nah,” he said, making a face. “Not so much.”

 

“Yeah, me neither,” she said, letting out that same little snort from before, again.

 

He grinned at her, snorting, too, before shrugging, a little uselessly.

 

“I’m more the fighter,” he said, scrunching up his nose.

 

With that her smile fell, and she sighed. Deeply.

 

“Yeah I’m not that either, really,” she said, somewhat sadly.

 

He stopped in his walk. Looked at her face that blinked up at him, perplexed. “What?!” he asked incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

 

She was the strongest Senshi he’d ever seen. She gave all three of them a weird sense of hope, even when it was buried under heartbreak more deeply for some of them. Surely she must know that?

 

She frowned at him. “No?”

 

He shook his head at her, forgot to keep his voice low. “… What you did on Sunday…?”

 

She set her jaw, pursed her lips, as she turned and resumed walking. “Not strong enough to not endanger everyone I love, apparently,” she ground out between her teeth.

 

He fell silent. Frowned.

 

He touched her arm, stopping her again. “I…” he started, and then stopped, tried again. “An attack like that… you need to know that it’s a _miracle_ you’re still alive, that only one of you has...”

 

He trailed off at the look in her eyes, clouding over, and they resumed walking, once more. Directionless, across the school grounds, among the trees and gardens, where less people hung out during lunchtime.

 

“I’d never in a billion years have thought you’d be a crystal holder,” he said, instead, “I’d always imagined them… different.”

 

But her eyes clouded over even more, turning glassy, and she swallowed thickly, turning blinking eyes up to him. “Can we talk about something else?” she said, a pleading, melancholy look in her eyes that had the power to break his heart. “Please?” she repeated, in a small voice.

 

He blinked, swallowed. He didn’t understand. What did he say? “Than crystal holders?” he asked.

 

She nodded, quickly, reverently. “Yeah…”

 

He swallowed, again, turning inquisitive eyes to her, but let the subject drop, of course.

 

They’d reached the back of the school gardens, and turned back, circling the secluded little tropical glass house sheltering the rose and strawberry bushes that he’d sometimes seen Taiki seek refuge in.

 

“Can I ask you a very personal question?” she said, a little moment later.

 

“Depends?” he smirked, winking at her. And at her look, inclined his head, smiling. “Go ahead.”

 

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

 

He chuckled, winked at her again. Such a normal, unimportant question, under all the ones she could have asked.  

 

“In your view I’d be both,” he said, shrugging, smiling. “Our biology works a little different than yours.”

 

She scrunched up her nose. It looked adorable. “But…” she started, and at her blush he had to chuckle again, knowing what she’d ask. “I mean…” she trailed off.

 

“Both, yes. I can switch at will. Completely,” he said, smirking much too wide, he knew. “Male and female and everything countless in between.”

 

“Huh,” she said, frowning.

 

“It’s not that different from yours actually. You put such importance on gender, here, when, really, there’s not much of a difference between them…”

 

He was rambling, he knew, but at least she wasn’t looking so sad anymore. It didn’t last long, though… “You know, on Kinmoku, we believe that…”

 

He stopped, eyes widening as they always did when he casually mentioned his home in conversation, while briefly forgetting that it no longer was.

 

 Usagi’s frown slipped from her features almost immediately, eyes turning mournful again, and she swallowed thickly.

 

He really didn’t like the clenching feeling his heart made every time she flicked her eyelashes up to look at him with those sad, shining eyes.

 

“I meant it… by the way,” she whispered. Her eyes once again found her feet.

 

He turned his eyes to the crown of her head.

 

“You have no idea how sorry I am that we didn’t do more…” she whispered to the ground.

 

He sighed. “You did more than we would have done.”

 

She scrunched her eyebrows together, looked up at him. Almost angry, and a little bit confused.

 

He sighed, more deeply, this time, his shoulders falling. “You know… “ he started “…I just wish… We’ve been here for weeks… and we haven’t found our princess…”

 

She interrupted him, eyebrows shooting low, again. “You’re looking for your princess? Did you lose her?”

 

“ _No_ ,” he shook his head “we _sent_ her here. To the beacon.” He swallowed. “ _Your_ beacon. Along with the last remaining dozens of our people… but… we were the rear guard, logically. We arrived last. And now… now we can’t find _anyone_. They _should_ be here, but… they’re _not_. None of them, and I just wish…”

 

Her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, yes! You don’t know!”

 

He frowned. “What don’t I know?”

 

She grabbed his sleeve, digging her fingers into his fabric, and pulled. She dragged him along, in a fast pace, and he stumbled behind her. “Odango— what?”

 

She dragged him out further, until they just…simply walked off the premises, in the middle of the school day. Out and away.

 

“I have to show you something,” she said, her eyes turning excited.

 

“And that can’t wait?” he said, huffing. She’d started to run.

 

“No, no it can’t,” she said, almost laughing, and started running in earnest.

 

He ran after her, tried to keep up, but she was _fast_ , even when accounting for the fact that he realized she wasn’t getting out of breath at all, probably even running slower for his benefit.

 

She led them all the way across Juuban, running. After minutes he had to slow, just a little, holding a stitch in his side. “Wait. Woah, Odango. Where are we going?”

 

“You’ll see,” she said, grinning like a child.

 

 _There_ she was. The Odango he knew.

 

They arrived, out of breath – at least him – at a shrine. She looked giddy, excited, as she took the steps to at a time. He ran after her bewildered, wheezing.

 

An awfully short, old, bald man in traditional priest’s robes greeted her by name, scolding her for the time of day and shouldn’t she be at school, and she just rolled her eyes and waved to the man and grabbed Seiya by the sleeve again.

 

“How many are here, today?” she called back over her shoulder.

 

“Oh, many! Writing practice, today!” the little man called back.

 

She giggled again, and Seiya was about to comment, when she stopped, and pushed him – two scrawny, little arms shoving at his back –into the main house of the shrine.

 

She bent over, sliding off her shoes, and he did the same, automatically. He furrowed his brows.

 

In the next room, connected to them by a paper thin sliding door, voices could be heard. Dozens.

She whirled around in front of him. Hand on the door.

 

“I have no idea where your princess is, but” she whispered to him, her face giddy and joyful, “I do know where the rest of your people are.”

 

And with that she slid open the door.

 

His stomach plummeted.

 

“ _Usagi-chaaan_!!” came an excited chorus of voices to their greeting.

 

Several kids – youngsters, _god_ yes, he _recognized_ some of them, even without the dirt and terror on them – jumped up upon seeing Usagi, greeting her loudly. The smaller kids came running to her, falling into her arms.

 

Voices started talking from all sides. Accentless, flawless Japanese. “I thought you’d come tomorrow?” and “Did you bring that Manga, this time?” and “No, anime, please, anime!”  - jumbled together, excited to see her.

 

Every last of them knew her.

 

He watched the smallest of them – he _remembered_ the child, had carried it from the burning tubes himself – glide into her arms, hugging tight.

 

His hand flew to his mouth, he knew his eyes were wet now, and his hands trembled, but he couldn’t contain it.

 

They were here. They were well. They’d been taken care of, all this time.

 

He watched the child lean up to her, whisper – pretty loudly – in her ear. “Who is this person, Usagi-chan?”

 

Her eyes whipped to his. Confused, a little disappointed.

 

He opened his mouth, tried to answer, but he was falling apart. He couldn’t let them see him like this, he needed to be strong. A role model.

 

He shook his head, sharply, mute, and slipped from the door like something bit him.

 

Usagi called after him.

 

He was out the door, bent over, hands on his legs, breathing. In, Out, In, Out.

 

She appeared next to him, outside, almost immediately. “What’s wrong?”

 

He held up his hand, straightening up. Looking up, into the clouds, blinking, willing his glassy eyes not to tear up, willing himself to calm down.

 

They were here. They were well. They’d been taken care of, all this time.

 

 “They don’t recognize you?” she asked.

 

He frowned at her, her silly question distracting him for a moment. “Would the people of Earth recognize _you_?” he replied.

 

She frowned back, then her eyebrows lifted in realization, as the penny dropped. Understanding dawning that transformation glamours worked universally. That they wouldn’t recognize him in his civilian form.

 

“Are you ok? I was hoping on a different reaction?” she asked, instead.

 

He inhaled again.

 

His voice trembled when he asked, “You took care of them? All of this time?”

 

She nodded, proudly. “We all do. We take turns, though mostly in the evenings, after training? My Papa bought a house with Ami-chan’s money that’s really close by here, where most of them live. And others live in Haruka’s building, and one lives at home with us?” she said, but at his shocked, moved look just continued straight on. “And we use the shrine for teaching and … anything really. Mama is here sometimes, during the day. And Papa hired some teachers, though most of that we do ourselves, as well. Rei, Ami, Haruka and Michiru, …and Mamo-chan spend the most time, with them. And Grandpa Hino helps a lot.” She nodded her head toward the little, bald haired man in the booth across the yard, and he blinked, noticing the little hiccup before she mentioned her boyfriend. “They teach them languages and our sciences, and writing and stuff. Mako-chan and my Mama make sure they get the best to eat. Mina-P and I are more of the entertainment squad,” she explained, with a sheepish smile.

 

He put his hands to his face, but this time he couldn’t contain the solitary sob.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

She frowned. Utterly un-understanding

 

“Why do you do this?”

 

She looked at him as if he’d gone insane.

 

“We’re _Senshi_ ,” she said. As if it explained everything. And in her head… in her head it seemed to do just that.

 

“It’s the least we could do…” she added, that sad tone back in her voice.

 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Threaded his hands from his face up into his hair… And then he basically tackled her, encasing her in the biggest hug he remembered ever giving.

 

She was startled for a moment, surprised, but let it happen, until he collected himself. Her arms only came around him slowly, as he started crying a few, errant tears, and she patted his back.

 

He let her go, just as fast. Blushing, embarrassed, but she only smiled at him kindly. He was so completely out of it out if it, it wasn’t even funny.

 

He needed to calm down. He needed to get his wits together.

 

He ran his hands over his face again. “I need to go back in,” he said, nodding.

 

Then he blinked. “Wait, no I need to get the others,” he said, widening, patting the pockets in his school uniform for his phone – or rather, the weird backwards piece of technology these people here called “advanced”.

 

“Just go back in, yeah?” she said, smiling, her head cocked a little to the side.

 

“Yeah…” he breathed.  “Yeah… ok.”

 

He exhaled slowly again. He’d never had performance anxiety, it was foreign to him. One reason why the thought of hiding in plain sight as celebrities hadn’t bothered him in the slightest… but this… this was different. He imagined this was what stage fright might feel like… these were the last people of his whole populace, of his whole race.

 

He trembled, as he stepped back into the house.

 

He turned back to look at her over his shoulder. “… Do I look alright?”

 

She giggled, raised an eyebrow. “What, really?”

 

He blushed, turned back to walk. Right.

 

He inhaled deeply as he walked back in, to the curious, now quieter face of the kids before him, and a spattering of young adults, he now noticed. Felt Usagi’s presence behind him, encouraging. Heard the gasp from the youngsters when he switched languages, and greeted them not in the language they spoke in this country, but their own.

 

Some of them started crying as he talked, self-consciously touching the hem of his school uniform. He definitely cried, as well. And he felt her slip out of the room when he assumed she felt he didn’t need her anymore – giving them privacy.

 

When he came back out, almost an hour later, he was simultaneously surprised and not surprised to still see her sitting outside and waiting for him, eyes warm and sympathetic.

 

He met her eyes, inhaling deeply. They were hundreds of things he should be saying. He’d be returning soon with Yaten and Taiki. He couldn’t believe what they’d done for them. They’d take over, now – as celebrities they had the money. Yaten would be… and Taiki… Would that be ok? And… Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

 

But none of it came out, as he searched for words. How did one express gratitude over the fact that other people took care of everything that remained of one’s own people?

 

She just smiled at him. “It’s ok,” she said.

 

He blinked. Nodding, cause no words came.

 

“I have to go now. Tell the others. Bring them here?” he said.

 

She nodded. “Of course.”

 

He breathed deeply. “I … I don’t know what to say. How can I ever thank—“

 

She shook her head, sharply. “We’re Senshi,” she repeated, again. As if it explained everything. And she was right… maybe it did. At least it should.

 

Senshi were a force of good. Of Aid. Of peace. Without condition.

 

She reminded him of that.

 

He nodded, turned to leave. Waved at her, for there were no words left in him, still, and she waved back, smiling.

 

 “But—“ he turned back to her, already at the stairs.

 

She stopped him, again. Smiled. “If you really wanna thank me, I still know someone who really wants to meet you!” she shouted after him.

 

He nodded. Her sister. Right. Then he grinned, winked at her, as he started ascending the stairs, with a wave behind his back.

 

“Bring her by tomorrow, Odango!” he called behind his back, some of himself returning through the shock, and he laughed.

 

L

 

Mamoru unlocked the door to his apartment, closed it behind him, bent down to take off his shoes, and walked into the main room.

 

He stopped there for a second.

 

His shoulders slumped, and somehow, it was pressing, almost choking, how quiet it was. How lifeless.

 

He hadn’t known just how used he had gotten to the noises of life around him. Ikuko’s yells through the house to get her kids to do… anything, really. The sound of Kenji leafing through his paper. The noises and grunts from Shingo and his console, as he hacked away on one game or another, on the floor in the living room. One or all of the girls coming up from command central, Minako standing in the doors to the backyard with her hand on her hips saying something offhanded or offending. The almost unperceivable scratching sounds of Ami bringing her work and scribbling to the dining table. The smell of either of Makoto’s or Ikuko’s cooking. The murmured conversation in the kitchen. The smells of those awfully overly scented soaps when it was his turn to clean up. And lately, Chibi-Kiju and her chirping and flittering about, like a little, happy bird in a cage.

 

And…

 

Usako. Giggling, chatting, whining, yelling, whooping, warm, bright, _loud_. _Home_.

 

He’d always prided himself how well he worked in solitude. How it hadn’t bothered him at all how alone he’d been, before her.

 

Oh, how he’d lied to himself.

 

He shuffled over to the kitchen counter, barely lifting his feet. Unpacked what he’d gotten from the conbini across the street. Single portions of pre-made meals, a packet of Ramen. Enough to get himself, and himself only, through the next few days. It looked very empty and impersonal in the barely used fridge. Three cartons, wrapped in plastic, on empty shelves. A bottle each of Worchester sauce, soy sauce and water, in the side of the door, and nothing else.

 

Well, not himself only. He lifted the last item that he’d bought, extracting it from his bag carefully. A tin of cat food. The cheap kind – but not because he wouldn’t buy Luna the most expensive gourmet food that he could find, but simply because that was her favorite kind. Something in the sauce, she kept saying, embarrassedly.

 

Not that she wouldn’t also get the tempura shrimp from his pre-made meals. She loved those, too.

 

He put it on the counter, didn’t store it away. It was a reassuring sight to see, reminded him that he wasn’t completely alone.

 

Just like he liked to work in front of his window side, now. Had repositioned the desk and chair against the wall in a way that he could swivel around and look out – and see the car parked at the end of the street, where he knew Haruka to be sitting, and sometimes one of the other girls.

 

Standing by, in case someone found him. Protecting, but not too close.

 

It had only been four days, yet, but he felt lonelier than he ever had in his life.

 

The apartment was spotless – he’d spent the whole first afternoon alone cleaning, doing laundry, scrubbing floors that didn’t need scrubbing, just to busy himself until he knew Usagi would be home and he could call her. Had studied through the night, catching up on every last assignment, when he couldn’t fall asleep, with her not next to him.

 

He scolded himself. Shouldn’t he be stronger than that?

 

He had a newfound respect for every couple enduring long-distance relationships, now. Asked himself how they did it, day in day out. But at least… _they_ always waited toward something. The next time they would see each other. Next weekend, next month, next… next.

 

Usagi and him might have no next. All he might ever get from her ever again might be her voice. Because there was one more downside that normal long distance couples didn’t have: _Their_ partner wasn’t hunted by alien assassins.

 

He shivered when he only thought about it, clawed his hands into the side of the counter he still stood at. He couldn’t think about it. If he did too long he’d screw their plan and go running home, immediately.

 

If it weren’t for the fact he’d risk her, too, if he did. Not just everyone else.

 

He felt a stab of that much too old, much too familiar guilty conscience, when he thought that. He was the empath. _And_ the prince of this planet. If anyone, it should be him who should be most driven to protect this world and its people, over anything, even her. But he’d still choose her over all of them.

 

And he wanted to protect them, of course he did. It was his _dream_ to protect everyone… with her.

 

…Just not over her.

 

She was right, though. Of course she was right. They all were.

 

He shuffled back into the room, dragging his bag with him and sat at his newly positioned desk, pulling out a textbook. The car outside stood where it always stood.

 

He’d still brought Haruka coffee out, the first day. Until she’d started to bring her own on the second day, to prevent him from doing that. Saying she was glamoured, but they never knew, and even if she didn’t trigger anything in him, no amplifying mechanisms, it was still dangerous. She was still a target, could be found at any second, and the proximity was a dangerous solution already as it was – so he should keep away.

 

He’d swallowed and nodded and told her to bring blankets next time, it was getting colder. And then he’d gone up and not come back down.

 

If he squinted, now, he could make out Haruka’s silhouette in the car. Barely. Almost.

 

His eyes flicked to his clock. Luna should be back, soon – an hour or two more, maybe – from observing Tomoe. Maybe she would want to watch a documentary with him.

 

His hand flew to his pocket, to his phone. But no, he remembered. He couldn’t call her. Usagi had plans tonight.

 

But as if he’d willed it to, it began vibrating anyway.

 

He ripped it from his pocket, but deflated when he saw the caller ID.

 

Motoki. His eyes found the clock, once again. 6 pm to the dot. He’d called the minute he got off shift. Go figure.

 

Usagi had texted him earlier; warned him that this might happen.

 

He answered his phone with a sigh.

 

“Tell me it’s not true!” Motoki demanded, the second he’d picked up.

 

Mamoru knew what he was talking about of course, and he shouldn’t, but the opportunity was just too enticing to pass up, and so he jumped on the chance to utter immediately.

 

“It’s not true.” His voice shook as he said it. He cursed himself, for the tone, for the truth, but obviously, thankfully, Motoki took it for being a sarcastic, literal ass.

 

Motoki growled into the phone.

 

“Who told you?” Mamoru asked back, instead. Chiding himself, again, for the defeated tone in his voice, but Motoki didn’t seem to notice. He was too worked up.

 

“Well, Usagi-chan _would_ have, if she’d even managed to utter the words. So, _Minako_ had to say it _for her_! Have you gone _insane_?! How could you!”

 

“Who says it was me who did it,” Mamoru answered, frowning.

 

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t her, the way she looked!”

 

Mamoru sighed. “Listen—“

 

“No, no, _you_ listen!” Motoki interrupted him, basically yelling down his phone. “What you had there was _beautiful_ , man, and I thought you knew it! Most beautiful thing I’ve _ever_ seen and you just—“

 

“Listen, Motoki—“

 

“—how could you do this to her? To yourself?! Aren’t you aware that—“

 

“LISTEN, MOTOKI!”

 

The line quieted, finally. Mamoru sighed once more before talking., bowing his head and closing his eyes.

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

But, no, he couldn’t do this.

 

“Listen, I can’t talk about it right now, I’ll get in touch with you some other time, ok?” he mumbled, quickly.

 

“Oh, _NO_ , you _don’t_ , MAMOR—“

 

Mamoru hung up, and let the phone clatter to his desk. He leant back in his chair, exhaling deeply, running his hands through his hair.

 

He couldn’t.

 

Also, he really wasn’t sure how he felt about Motoki automatically thinking _he_ must have been the person who fucked up. So quick to think he’d break her heart…

 

He pursed his lips, sat straighter. Trying to will other thoughts into his head, his flipped his textbook open. But his eyes flitted back to the car, again, and then he blinked.

 

Outside, it had started snowing.

 

So early in November already? Mamoru frowned, and got up to walk over to his balcony, slightly alarmed. For a split second he thought maybe some of Kaguya’s Snow Dancers had resurfaced –but then he shook his head. Impossible.

 

L

 

Seiya grabbed Yaten’s guitar, and then put it back immediately. He knew he was just nervous, and that he shouldn’t be.

 

She was already late. Had he told her the wrong time?

 

He jumped back up from the couch, put Yaten’s clutter from one side of the room back to the other, where he’d moved it before, even though this wasn’t even the first time she’d been here – Minako had dragged her here one nosy afternoon, days before the concert. Still, he wanted to leave a good impression, so he re-stacked all the printed out mess Taiki had left on the dining table. Buildings that were for purchase nearby. One had interested him the most.

 

Taiki, of course, had been much more collected than he had been, when they’d arrived at Hikawa shrine, while Yaten had been a worse mess than him.

 

 They’d spent the rest of the evening talking with them , once Seiya had brought Yaten and Taiki back there– and two of the Earth’s Senshi. Planning what happened now. They’d been surprised, all thereof them, when their people had been reluctant when they told them they’d take over, get a place for all of them, take over.

 

But Seiya shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d seen. He’d seen the way Usagi had been with them, the way they all loved her. Saw now the way they behaved around those two.

 

Some even cried. Clutching the Miko – Rei, he knew her name now. Sailor Mars – around her hips, not wanting to go.

 

They’d built something here. They had a connection, and obviously, it ran deep. They loved these Senshi. While the three of them were strangers to all of them, soldiers they’d grown up admiring but never met until that one moment when they’d sent them here.

 

But they couldn’t just… they couldn’t, right? They couldn’t just leave them here, leave everything as it was? It was their own responsibility. _They_ should take care of these people. The three of them. And they could! They had the money, they had the connections.

 

The current compromise was for them to buy out the building nearby to the rutty apartment building they lived in. This one far more luxurious, with rooms meant for offices, and thus big enough to teach, and meet, and connect. Build a community within a single building. Taiki had already made calls regarding the investment.

 

And in turn any of the youngsters could come back to Hikawa shrine whenever they wanted, and would still have one rotating lesson there, one evening in the week.

 

The Miko had nodded, eyes shining but jaw set, and had agreed. Had hugged the kids fiercely, telling them they’d always have a place to go here.

 

Seiya had been moved. So, so moved. He didn’t think she was the type to usually show emotion. More like Yaten. And yet…

 

He had no idea how they could ever thank them.

 

Yaten had been too proud to admit it, he knew. But he also knew him more than anyone in the galaxy. Understood what the creases in the sides of his eyes meant when he scowled. When it meant things that he was unwilling to admit or understand.

 

It had been a huge deal when he’d turned to Rei and Ami, that unreadable look still in his eyes, and grabbed their hands, squeezing. Even if he hadn’t managed to utter the words.

 

Yaten was maybe more moved than him that they had done this. Taken all these people in without a second thought. He wasn’t quite willing to forgive, yet, but maybe he was willing to listen, now.

 

Maybe they could talk now… all of them. As friends. As allies.

 

He hoped so, at least.

 

The doorbell rang. Seiya rolled his eyes. 20 minutes late. Of course she would be.

 

He pursed his lips, tried his suddenly wild heartbeat to calm down. _You’re her friend_ , he tried to remind himself.

 

He steeled himself when he opened the door, willed his game face on; the nonchalant façade.

 

“Oi, Odango,” he said upon opening the door, winking, feeling like the worst actor in the world, trying to act cool. She pursed her lips briefly, and rolled her eyes, so he continued. “So where’s your little sister?” he added, nodding towards the pink adorable mini odangos protruding from behind Usagi’s legs.

 

The star of the day, after all. That was why Usagi had come. The promise he had made. A meet and greet with a little Mini-Tsukino.

 

Usagi wiggled a little, moving to get the small girl to come forward, whining how she should greet him politely, and why was she so shy now?

 

He grinned at Usagi when finally tiny feet came forward, mumbling a hello, but when he looked down at her…

 

 _No_.

 

 _How_ …

 

No.

 

He would recognize her anywhere, of course. Any age, any form.

 

Kakyuu. How could this be Kakyuu? Was his mind playing tricks on him, now? Had he…?

 

He couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. Three? Five at the most? He’d known Kakyuu then, of course. They’d been five years themselves when they came to be her companions, trained to be her Senshi, and Kakyuu was just a toddler of two. She’d always been adorable with her long, reddish-pink hair that had changed into a deep red over the years, growing darker. The kind smile, the innocence and wonder to be replaced by humbleness and duty.

 

How was she…? How was this possible?

 

“Odango, this isn’t _really_ your sister, is it?” he managed to choke out, without looking away from Kakyuu’s eyes.

 

It was the first time since he’d met Usagi that all of his senses weren’t zoned in on her. He could barely hear her answer, right in front of him, as she explained that, no, this wasn’t her sister, she was one of Kinmoku’s refugees, but that she felt like it now. That she’d been the first, and they’d taken her in at her home, and that she loved her as if she were.

 

Kakyuu grew uncomfortable under Seiya’s intense stare, clawed her hands into the high socks Usagi wore underneath that big bulky coat that seemed entirely too warm.

 

Usagi spoke to her, when no reaction came from Seiya, using a peculiar name, reminding her how excited she’d been to meet Seiya, and that he was one of her people. Wasn’t that exciting? And that she should go on, talking to him. He wouldn’t bite. All the while he felt Usagi glancing at him, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t look away from the child in front of him.

 

Did she not recognize him?

 

He lowered himself to one knee, the royal bow. It came on instinct, but it also brought his face to Kakyuu’s level.

 

He didn’t understand.

 

“…Kakyuu?” he asked, tentatively, scolding himself for addressing her so informally, but…

 

“Do you recognize me?” he whispered to her, at the same time that Odango yelped, above them, “Wait, you _recognize_ her?”

 

But Kakyuu only blinked, clutching harder at Usagi’s legs. He swallowed, he remembered that phase. She’d been awfully shy with strangers when she’d been a little one. Had always kept to them, afraid to speak to strangers.

 

Now he seemed to be the stranger? What…?

 

He tried again. “Princess…”

 

“WHAT?!” Usagi yelped, and Kakyuu jumped startled, eyes shining. She was _scared_. Was she scared of _him_?!

 

He tried to reach out, get her to talk. _Please_ … He extended his hands, but before he made contact, Kakyuu had started crying, and turned fully away, towards Usagi, extending her little arms.

 

Usagi reacted on instinct, picking her up, hugging her, turning perplexed, shocked, inquiring eyes on Seiya as she did, over Kakyuu’s little head burying into her neck.

 

L

 

 

Yaten was a bit confused to see the name “Tsukino” written on the little plate by the fence of the house that he and Taiki had arrived in front. Seiya had been frantic on the phone, told them to drop what they were doing, gave them an address to come to right away.

 

This one.

 

He was even more confused, when a middle-aged woman arrived at the door, before they even had a chance to ring a bell, greeted them by their last name politely, and led them, without batting an eyelash, down the stairs through a dimensional door in the side of her house.

 

But all that became utterly unimportant, when he heard Taiki’s shocked outcry, and whipped his head to where Taiki was looking at.

 

And saw the spitting image of his princess, as a _child_ , clutching Kino’s hand tightly.

 

He thought it was a joke at first. That they found a human kid that resembled her to the last hair. But then he _felt_ it.

 

He lunged forward, dimly registering Seiya’s voice, calling, “ _No, don’t_!”, as he gathered her up, clutching her to him.

 

But then he registered her scared, frightened outcry through his shock, and let go of her, as if her touch had electrified him, as she boxed her way out of his arms, crying big fat tears and running for the arms of the middle aged woman who had brought them down here, where she hiccupped, and calmed down as she was hushed.

 

Yaten knelt on the ground, wide-eyed. All he could do was look at her.

 

He only picked up snippets of the conversation around him. _Sorry – doesn’t remember you – been here for months_.

 

“How?” he uttered at last.

 

It was the blue-haired one who answered– Ami, the one they’d saved, the smart one, the one who had been with them at that shrine, when they’d finally found the youngsters.

 

“We’ve been talking about that just now. My main hypothesis is a cut in her connection to her planet, maybe due to the distance, and when a Senshi doesn’t have a connection to their planet, then—“

 

 Taiki cut in, talking. They spoke of power links to their planet, of the speed they’d sent her here with, of trauma, and memory loss. Discussing in loud voices, about the odds that might restore her memories and powers – not so high. Noticed a third voice cut in – Tsukino’s boyfriend, and scoffed. Most advanced technology he’d seen on this planet, so far, all in this room, and his image was projected onto the screen through a bloody _skype call_.

 

Whatever. He didn’t care about that. It wasn’t important. None of it was.

 

She was here.

 

And she was scared of them.

 

He tried to make his face appear warmer. Tried to look nicer.

 

He didn’t take his eyes away from her little, trembling hands, as he whispered through the talking voices. “Can we take her home, now?”

 

He felt Seiya’s hands on his shoulder, trying to calm him. But what he replied infuriated him. “That’s what we’ve been discussing before you arrived.”

 

That meant no. Seiya usually said yes to easy answers, and everything else meant no.

 

He growled, started yelling, but stopped, when he saw the way Kakyuu’s lips trembled, scared. He faltered, deflated.

 

“She’s scared of you, I’m sorry. She doesn’t want to go,” Tsukino said, eyes sympathetic.

 

He only looked at Kakyuu, but she nodded vigorously, burying her little face into the chest of what he guessed must be Tsukino’s mother. A middle-aged man right behind them.

 

“You have to understand,” Ami began. “She has no memories. To her _we_ are her family. She was so traumatized when she arrived. It’s only been a while that she’s been so normal, and she’s bonded with all of us. She didn’t even want to be with the others of your people, she’d been so scared, then, too, that someone might take her away from us…”

 

He heard Taiki’s voice starting to argue, felt his own throat moving with words, but stopped, again, as Kakyuu’s eyes welled up even further, wailing “please,” and “no,” into the woman’s chest, who kept rocking her, telling her that she’ll always be there for her, whatever happened.

 

Yaten swallowed thickly. It was the same, all over again. The youngsters clutching themselves to Rei, not wanting to let go.

 

He couldn’t stand the blinding stab of jealousy. Envy. Hated himself for it. They’d not only taken in all their people. They’d kept his princess safe all this time. Not only safe – but _happy_. They’d fucked up, they’d sent her wrong, and she’d been left defenseless, powerless – and these Senshi had taken her in and cared for her, and he _hated_ them for it. Right now, his princess loved _them_.

 

It was petty. He knew it was.

 

He felt the tears on his face, not knowing where to vent the anger otherwise, felt Seiya’s hand tighten on his shoulder. Felt his support, always, unconditional.

 

By the time he calmed down, reigned in his selfish feelings, and the pit in his stomach that said he needed to be grateful, he owed everything to them now, even when it was the last thing he wanted… by time he’d calmed down they were all talking. Sharing. Discussing.

 

He hadn’t noticed all of them were here, except the blotchy image of loverboy on the screen. The tall lesbian and her girlfriend, Rei and Aino, Ami and Kino. Tsukino, with her parents on top of that.

 

Taiki was talking a lot. Were there any ways to restore Kakyuu’s memories? Ami didn’t know how. Seiya sharing what they knew of Galaxia and her minions. How those two Animamates that had their eyes on them seemed to protect each other fiercely, how it wasn’t uncommon for them to not attack for weeks and then suddenly a lot. That it was their strategy, wait until their prey became careless again. And that this time they must be angry – Tsukino had landed a big blow on one of them. They’d lick their wounds and retaliate only when recovered.

 

About Galaxia. That Galaxia might not even know of them, here. That the Animamates usually scouted the perimeter, reported back with findings often much later. And that Galaxia only ever came for the final blow, never took an interest before that.

 

And what a Star Seed truly was, why they assumed Galaxia needed them.

 

“We’re not so sure _why_ ,” Taiki was saying, “and we can’t relate exactly, because _we_ don’t carry Star Seeds ourselves, we’re not targets, but a Star Seed, of course, harbors all the planetary power of that Senshi. It’s eternal. It’s the Senshi’s essence. If she has _all of them_ —“

 

It splintered into side conversations. Hypothesis on why she needed them, none of them new, Yaten didn’t care, they weren’t talking about the _important_ stuff. And then about why the heck they don’t have Star Seeds.

 

Yaten snorted. Did they know _nothing_ of Senshi power, here? This solar system right here was where it all started, was it not? The origin of the Senshi? The reason why every Senshi in the galaxy had to honor their old traditions, learn their languages? And they didn’t know?

 

And from the look of it, and how they lived, in secret, their princess going to public school, they didn’t follow these old traditions very thoroughly, either.

 

“We’re Starlights, not Senshi,” Yaten bit out. Tsukino jumped a bit. It was the first time he’d spoken in the conversation that had gone on for a while.

 

Ami blinked in understanding. At least _one_ of them knew things, around here, apparently.

 

She went back on babbling, that Yaten was right, Starlights aren’t Senshi. That they were usually named after the satellites, but had no planetary powers – and star seeds – themselves. That their powers were granted to them, either by very strong Senshi (like Kakyuu, in their case), or crystal holders. That there used to be lots of Starlights in their own solar system – in fact, one for almost each and every satellite in the solar system. That they’d been the base for Jupiter’s armies. That Jupiter had been the Commander of sixty seven Starlight Generals. One for each moon, commanding hundreds of Starlights representing the Asteroid Belt that swarmed around Jupiter’s home planet.

 

Yaten growled. Why didn’t they talk about what’s _important_?!

 

He had enough. He barked it out. “Can we take her home, or not?”

 

They quieted. Kakyuu whimpered, and he blanched.

 

“Can we?” Taiki said, quietly.

 

Yaten’s heart fell.

 

“My suggestion would be that you come visit. Regularly,” Tsukino’s mother said, gently. “See how it goes. But please don’t rip her from her home.”

 

He exhaled. He knew it was the right decision, but… he’d waited so long for this day. She was his princess, not _theirs_ …

 

But…

 

“That’s a good solution, I would say,” Taiki said, with a thick voice.

 

Yaten whipped his eyes to him. Glaring.

 

But… he wasn’t gonna fight it. He’d be the best visitor in existence. They most consistent, he vowed to himself.

 

“And when it goes well…” he said.

 

“Then we’ll see again,” the woman said, eyes strong. Like a mother. Like a protector.

 

“But—“ … will she be safe?

 

Yaten didn’t have to finish voicing his concern.

 

“You said it yourself, right? She has no power. She cannot be detected like this, no matter the target next to her. As long as she has no connection to her powers, she is uninteresting to them,” Ami said.

 

“She has a ton of bodyguards, here,” Makoto said, strong voice.

 

He nodded. So did Seiya and Taiki.

 

Still, it was hard to accept.

 

“Wait!” Haruka interrupted them , voice loud, startling all of them. “You say you are no target. But you obviously _do_ have powers. They aren’t looking for you?”

 

Seiya nodded. “They can’t sense us.”

 

“Not at _all_?” Haruka asked further, and Taiki nodded in assurance.

 

They looked at each other, and back at the screen, as if they’d found a solution to a problem.

 

Eyes that were projected onto that big screen frowned, and so did Tsukino.

 

Haruka cleared her throat.

 

“Right… ok... we’re gonna ask something huge of you,” she said, even when Chiba started protesting on the screen.

 

It was her girlfriend though, teal-colored wavy hair bouncing, who continued on. “We’re going to ask you to protect the heir to the golden crystal for us.”

 

He frowned. They wanted them to protect _their_ princess? Yaten’s eyes flew to Usagi and her pursed lips.

 

“What ...we… what?” Seiya stuttered, and Yaten had to roll his eyes.

 

The guy looked as if he’d been handed a gift box, complete with red bow on top, out of the blue. Started blushing, fought himself to yelp out his agreement immediately.

 

But Taiki answered. Inhaling, quicker than he’d ever seen Taiki do so, not even listening to the _why_. Though Yaten guessed the why was obvious when Sailor Galaxia was out for their star seeds, and they were all blinking colorful targets.

 

 “Yeah. Yeah we can do that. In _return_ ,” Taiki stressed the word out, “you protect our princess. You protect her with your _life_ until we can, and in _exchange_ , _we_ protect _yours_.”

 

They all blinked at each other, frowning at each other in turn. Chiba cleared his throat on screen.

 

“No…” Haruka trailed off, with an apologetic look, almost amused. “Not our princess. Our prince.”

 

… Wait, what?

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, PLEASE!!


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, this chapter is coming a little quicker, again ;)
> 
> A mega-thanks, as always, to my beta, UglyGreenJacket, for giving me that constant support. You’re the BEST!
> 
> And thank you, too, guys, all of you, for your reviews, for reading, for going along on this ride. By this point, counting Ikigai, we’re 53 chapters into this story, and I promise to do my very best to wrap it up as best as I possibly can! And every one of you who reviews means the WORLD to me.

L

 

They’d arrived at his doorstep an hour later, come to escort him.

 

Mamoru had had his jaw set, but his duffel bag packed. He’d felt ridiculous, babied, as if he wasn’t able to protect himself. But … yes, compared to what they were up against, he wasn’t.

 

And so he’d let it happen, endured it, and found himself, duffel bag over his back, kitten on his shoulder, moving to live on the couch of three pop stars.

 

He’d thought his _apartment_ had been bad. This was worse. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to let go of his careful mask, here. Couldn’t cry hushed, ‘I miss you’s, into the phone so openly.

 

He didn’t let it show, of course, awkward as it was.

 

He just decided it was probably best to avoid Seiya. That turmoil of feelings that came off of the guy gave him a headache.

 

The apartment wasn’t big. And not at all nice. It looked like a place that had been put up in haste, and not looked after very nicely. Which, he guessed, was exactly what it was. Impersonal and run down. There really was no room for him, there, so he slept on the couch that Yaten had sarcastically declared his ‘royal chambers, Your Grace’.

 

That whole prince thing didn’t go down well so easily. But they’d kept their promise, and after the most awkward evening in tense silence, he’d been left in the living room to get some sleep.

 

Or not. He hadn’t closed his eyes at all, as much as he’d tried to concentrate on Luna’s purr as she slept beside him, to lull him in. The little red digits on the clock of the microwave across the open room showed four twenty in the morning, when Taiki walked in, in a morning robe, making coffee.

 

Talk about an early riser.

 

He contemplated pretending to sleep, but obviously Taiki was observant.

 

“Want some?” he asked.

 

Mamoru sighed. “Sure,” he said, and sat up.

 

He didn’t bother to put on a shirt, still hoping to get back to sleep, at least a little, and sat in the creaking chair beside Taiki, in nothing but his black jogging pants.

 

Taiki poured the steaming liquid into a simple, white mug, and slid some open papers aside to make room on the dining table to place it in front of Mamoru, who nodded in gratitude with a sigh.

 

They sat in silence for a moment. Taiki opened up his laptop, typed for a bit, the mug by his side steaming untouched, while Mamoru sipped on his.

 

Mamoru had never been good at small talk, so, with another sigh, he just went for the real talk.

 

“How long do you think until Galaxia does with Earth what she did to Kinmoku?” Mamoru mumbled.

 

Taiki gave him a look, blinking, but replied, without looking up from his screen. “Galaxia only ever comes to deal the last blow. When Chaos has long festered. She leaves the footwork to her Animamates.”

 

Mamoru frowned. “They’re more than those two?”

 

“Hundreds.”

 

“And they’re really Senshi?”

 

Taiki sighed, gave him a look, leaned back in his chair. It creaked. “Used to be. To be honest, I don’t know how much of them is truly left in there.”

 

Mamoru nodded. “But we have time, then, yeah? Chaos hasn’t festered?”

 

Taiki frowned, and without breaking eye contact, slid his laptop around.

 

There were two browser windows open, side by side. Mamoru recognized the languages, but couldn’t read them – and was surprised that Taiki seemed to be able to.  Two online newspaper sites. One Italian, one Swiss. And while he didn’t understand a word, he recognized one word used, and the picture portrayed. It’s the same as was displayed in the foreign politics section in the paper open on the table in front of him.

 

“Excuse me my forwardness,” Taiki said, as Mamoru frowned at what he saw, “but from all I’ve read up so far about this world’s history and current political events, it doesn’t seem a very unhateful sign to me when, across the globe, people are speaking of another nation’s Nazi problem again, yes?”

 

Mamoru breathed deeply. No, no it wasn’t a good sign.

 

“Chaos is long here. Hate creeps in very slowly and unnoticed,” Taiki said, eyes hard, but not unsympathetic.

 

Mamoru was so absorbed for a moment, he jumped when Yaten came barging into the room, most probably waking everyone in the building, complaining about the walls being so thin, and could they shut the hell up.

 

L

 

Usagi had been late, again, today. Seiya observed this with a frown, as she sat in the seat in front of him, her cheeks flushed from the high-speed dash she’d most probably performed across Juuban, her hair a little damp where the soft morning snowfall didn’t have any hope of staying frozen in the mild temperatures. And would turn to rain, yet again, a little later in the day, anyway.

 

Minako had reassured him, this morning, when he’d commented on it. Umino had piped in, saying this had been _so normal_ for her, before she’d been with Chiba, and was everything alright?

 

Minako had pursed her lips, and dished them the lie that everybody got who wasn’t unfortunate enough to understand what crystals and Animamates were. Told them to be gentle about it to her, maybe not to mention it. They’d frowned at each other, Naru particularly, but nodded dutifully.

 

And how very fitting Usagi’s behavior was to someone who _had_ been broken up with.

 

It had been two weeks since Chiba moved in with them. Two weeks he’d seen her sighs at school, hidden beneath fake smiles and cheers, and then heard _him_ whisper into his phone at night.

 

He sighed. It wasn’t particularly easy for him to see.

 

Still. He couldn’t keep away, of course. So when Usagi had fled her normal lunch group due to Naru’s and Umino’s concerned interrogation, and joined him, instead, he had no inclination to change anything about it just being the two of them.

 

And he gave her credit, definitely, for at least trying to talk about something else first, when he knew she _really_ wanted to talk about Chiba, of course…

 

“How are you doing?” she asked, instead.

 

He shrugged. “Ok. We’ve set up everything for the youngsters, you know?” She nodded. Of course she knew. “Yaten brought in this crazy strange interior designer; they went crazy on the place.”

 

Usagi giggled. “Yeah, I know. Minako told me about that.”

 

He nodded, leant back a little on the bench, in thought, stretching. “I… It’s nice. To have them here, to bond with them. It sounds strange, I know,  and, we are totally grateful that we get to rebuild here on Earth, but… it’s … different, to talk to someone who’s also from…” He clears his throat. “Well, you wouldn’t know.”

 

She sat a little straighter “Oh, but I do!”

 

He frowned at her.

 

She smiled at him, rolled her shoulder. “In a certain way, we’re refugees as well?” she said. And at his look, “Well, none of us came from here, anyway.  Well, except Mamo-chan, but… We just arrived differently than you, being born here. But our roots, our genes, all those old, crazy memories... come from somewhere else, as well. We’re also only here because our old homes have died. And it’s good to be able to talk to each other, people who know what it’s like? Like, I’m so happy, here, and I don’t _miss_ the tragedy, but…”

 

He blinked. Right. Moon. They’d touched that rebirth part before, but… it was still mind-boggling. Plus…sometimes she was way more insightful than people gave her credit for, even she herself.

 

He nodded, and they fell into silence.

 

“Um… “ she fidgeted in her spot on the bench. “…how… how are you all, um, getting along…? At home?”

 

He sighed. She meant Chiba, of course.

 

Seiya shrugged, it must have screamed discomfort. “He and Taiki get along famously. Yaten loves the cat. Me?... I don’t see that much of him, really.”

 

She nodded, then smiled. It looked forced.

 

“Um... he and Taiki get along?” she asked, tentatively.

 

He sighed, again. He would love nothing more than to drop the subject, but… he nodded.

 

“They have lots of ‘ _debates’_ about … things.”

 

“Things?”

 

Seiya nodded. “Yeah, like… ethics, and societies and political systems and yeah. Things.” He shrugged once more, and turned to her with inquisitive eyes. “Did you know he can feel what’s going on in your body?”

 

She giggled. “Yeah.”

 

“Um, yeah, of course you would,” he said awkwardly. “Well, apparently we have a different composition of hormones? It made him all excited. He and Taiki discussed it for hours. I didn’t pay attention, though, so…”

 

She nodded, again, knitting her hands together in her lap. Posture way too slumped.

 

He frowned. “Shouldn’t you.. um, shouldn’t you know best, though?”

 

She turned those eyes at him. Those big, blue, beautiful eyes that shouldn’t look so sad.

 

He swallowed. “Um, I mean…you guys talk on the phone every night for hours… Shouldn’t you… I mean…”

 

She mimicked his frown, turned her gaze back to her feet. “Um…  It’s… it’s different on the phone,” she said, voice small, hand tangling into one long streamer of blonde hair. “I-I can’t feel him. I can’t tell if he’s just .. you know, when he’s smiling and chuckling just for my benefit or if he’s actually amused, I… it’s different. I..” she took a deep breath, and looked at him, before her mouth opened again, and words tumbled out in long, jumbled rivets of feeling.

 

He braced himself.

 

“I don’t know if he’s clenching his teeth, or if he’s sleeping well, or if he just says it to makes me feel better... I don’t know if his eyes are downcast, if he’s sad, if he’s angry or upset, I … I can’t feel. It’s not the same. I hear him chuckle, but…but... what I can't hear ... is the times where he's amused, but the thing really was _totally_ offensive and he's like, super embarrassed for being so amused by it and no way he's letting that show, so nobody would ever know but... I could. And...”

 

She paused for breath, only barely.

 

“The little reactions he makes when he reads the paper in the mornings, when he'd be all hopeful about something, and then angered by another but... except for, like, these miniature microscopic expressions, if you just looked at him and didn't _feel_ how he goes through emotions so deeply when reading the news... he looks completely blank and neutral for anyone else...”

 

Seiya just nodded.

 

His heart clenched when a tear fell from her eyes, and she wiped at it, angrily, looking up at him apologetically.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not—“

 

“It’s ok,” he interrupted her, immediately.

 

She laughed bitterly. “It’s embarrassing.”

 

Seiya shrugged. “Nah.”

 

She inhaled deeply, steeling herself and her emotions, it seemed. And then inclined her head, her nose scrunched up as she gave him a look. “It’s silly. I know. And it wouldn’t be so bad if… well. You know, earlier this year, in spring, Mamo-chan was allowed to intern at this medical research company for two weeks in Okinawa. And that was totally fine, you know? He was even kinda disappointed that I hadn’t missed him _that_ much… and …and … now I tried to pretend he’s just back in Okinawa… but…” she trailed off, sniffling. “This, what we're up against? This is... bad. This is... Mamo-chan has had dreams about this Silence thing for... forever. And I know he’s panicked about it. And you guys... I mean... This Galaxia destroyed your planet with her left finger... and I... we might all die. And if we die early, before this plan all works out... I might never... he...”

 

She breathed out, slowly, shaking her head.

 

“I usually sleep in the shirt he wore that day, you know? And now, I keep sleeping in the last shirt I had of him from the last day before… but… it doesn't smell like him, anymore. Hasn't smelled like him for days. It smells like me now, and it reeks, to be honest.”

 

She stopped, sniffling. Trying so hard to be strong, and failing miserably. He knew what it looked like, of course. He knew what it felt like.

 

Seiya exhaled slowly, and then ran his hands over his face, sighing.

 

It was a moment until he was ready to speak.

 

“Um... I sometimes, um… he holds his phone to his chest when you hang up. For a little moment.”

 

Her eyes whipped to his, and she smiled. For a little moment it looked right.

 

L

 

When Seiya arrived home that evening, Taiki was quietly working on his computer, mumbling something about school admission programs for foreigners, designated for some of their youngsters, he had no doubt, and found Yaten sitting in the corner, with the black kitten sleeping against his side, and not so quietly strumming on his guitar, even though, of course, there were no concerts to prepare for, maybe ever again.

 

They’d made a YouTube video the other day, declaring they were taking a break, only so very shortly after their debut album was out. It was a pain, these days, hiding from the media. But – at least temporarily –they had no reason for this charade anymore, no reason to perform. Their princess was safe and sound, even if not in the state they’d had left her in, yet protected by one of the strongest forces in the universe.

 

He could read it in the melody Yaten played, though, even if he would never admit it if Seiya asked.

 

Yaten missed it, too. That short glimpse they had into a civilian life – if an extraordinary one. What it was to lead a life you chose, without duty.

 

They’d never regret it, of course, that it was over. Neither Yaten, nor he. It had been what they’d hoped for. Finding Kakyuu.

 

Yet, there was a part in Seiya that had liked this make-believe. Pretending to be pop stars, having time for concerts and interviews and baking cakes on national television, and falling in love with his classmate. It had seemed so normal.

 

And there was this tiny portion in him that envied these Senshi. That they got to grow up and go to school as normal people. That they lived their lives with their princess as friends, comrades, partners. Not as shields. Not at court, with duty and discipline. Not as role-models for an entire world.

 

He felt the deep pit of shame even when he thought it. He would do anything to get that life back, for it meant to get his world back.

 

But maybe, just maybe… if everything went well, if the Animamates could be beat, at least captured, before Galaxia ever took note of this tiny place on the edge of the Milky Way that they had found for her – they could make a life, here. Much like Earth’s Senshi. Be normal, have Kakyuu grow up as a normal, extraordinary person, who knew nothing of state balls and intragalactic diplomatic duties, who could spend her time with hobbies and friends and the chance to do with her life whatever she liked, with the three of them as her mentors, her _family,_ as well as eternal guard.

 

A fresh start. Leave all the terror of the destruction of Kinmoku behind.

 

It gave him hope, the fact they’d publicly declared a _break_ , not a disbanding. It had been Taiki’s call. Saying they did not know if their life on Earth was for good, and that as celebrities, they had ample resources to provide comfortably for every last living Kinmokuan currently on Earth, and that thus, they shouldn’t act prematurely about it.

 

It was a thought that called to him, however much he tried to push it back.

 

He swallowed, sighed, and went into the kitchen to grab a can of soda from the fridge, passing Taiki, once again, as he mumbled something about admission exams and education support.

 

He saw the neat stack of medical textbooks and highlighters on the side of the table. It was the only really apparent trace of Mamoru in the whole room, while Yaten’s and his own few belongings lay scattered everywhere around the whole apartment.

 

He didn’t leave a lot of traces. In fact, he didn’t see him anywhere, even knowing, dimly, that he must be home. His shoes had been neatly placed in the corner of the genkan, his heavy black coat resting on the hanger in the hallway.

 

“He’s out on the balcony,” Taiki said flatly.

 

Seiya started a bit, asking himself if he was _that_ easy to read, when he realized he’d been staring at Mamoru’s neat book pile a moment too long.

 

He frowned at the textbooks. Histology, Embryology, Biochemistry, Social Medical Science. Several unmarked notebooks, aligned perfectly, underneath, blue post-it page markers sticking from them in the dozen. A shiny black computer, so slim it hid between the books.

 

He looked around the room again. Instruments, drum sticks, empty cans, homework that was less than half-heartedly done to fit into a system they didn’t know they’d be staying in, all strewn around the place, messy and unkempt.

 

And then there were _his_ things, almost invisible. One single duffel bag, black, placed underneath the couch Mamoru slept on, wedged between the narrow wooden chair legs of the mass produced Scandinavian piece of furniture, hidden almost completely from view. The bedding neatly stacked on the side the couch, camouflaging as another cushion, always made up long before Seiya left the apartment in the morning, and usually well after he went to bed. The bag, he knew, housed a little satchel with toiletries that Mamoru never left in the bathroom, and clothes that he rotatingly hung up on the balcony to dry only to put them back into that duffel, afterwards, the very moment they were dry. A mug, washed and drying on the rack, that he never once left dirty in the sink.

 

That guy was so damn _neat_.

 

Anything he saw from the quiet, serious, studious, _neat_ guy… it was the complete opposite of Usagi.

 

And yet… there was no doubt the bond they had. Even if he hadn’t known it before, hearing Usagi talk about him that way…

 

God, did he _envy_ that guy…

 

He swallowed, and in a spur of the moment, he went back into the kitchen, grabbed Mamoru’s simple, boring, white mug, and poured Taiki’s thick, black filter coffee from the pot.

 

He held it out as an offering, when he ventured outside into the chilly air, and sat down next to Mamoru, in the other, still available, creaky plastic chair of the two on the balcony.

 

Mamoru blinked, his eyes surprised, but took the coffee between his hands, nodding in thanks, but not commenting.

 

It was cold tonight. Mamoru wore a woolen cardigan Seiya had not seen on the guy so far, and even though the winter was exceptionally mild – or so he’d been told, not that he had any reference of winter – Seiya shivered, not used to the cold climate of this planet. Not even used to the colder climates of _nighttime_ , really, if he was honest. With three suns, night was a rare thing on Kinmoku. It came twice a year, and each was a holiday, spent up and awake and celebrating.

 

 _Had been_ a rare thing on Kinmoku. Had been. He would never experience that again.

 

 He cleared his throat, and looked sideways at Mamoru.

 

He had a book in his lap that he wasn’t looking at. Instead, he was looking intently at the full moon.

 

 Seiya was pretty sure he knew who Mamoru was currently thinking about.

 

“You're a lucky guy, you know?” Seiya said quietly, taking a swig from his soda.

 

Probably not the best thing to say to someone who was suffering severe homesickness, and the possibility he might never see his soulmate again but... eh.

 

He understood what Seiya meant, though, obviously, and didn’t show any discomfort, when he answered, gaze still trained at the night sky. “I know. I am.”

 

They fell into silence, an uncomfortable one, at least to Seiya. Mamoru seemed completely unperturbed.

 

Seiya inhaled sharply, cursing himself for what he was about to say, even before he said it.

 

“I'm in love with her,” Seiya admitted, quietly.

 

Mamoru nodded, didn't even sigh, didn't look upset. “I know,” he said.

 

Seiya frowned. “What, that doesn't bother you?”

 

Mamoru gave a dry, unhumorous chuckle and cocked his head, cringing apologetically, almost. “Well...,” he said, “can't fault people for something I do myself, now, can I?”

 

Seiya blinked. Frowned. Blinked again.

 

Mamoru took pity on him.

 

“You're not the first guy.” He raised an eyebrow and gave a thoughtful shrug.  “I kind of draw the line where they start confessing to her? But... really...” he trailed off, frowning at the moon, before continuing. “I'm not surprised. I'm more surprised that not _everybody_ in the world is in love with her, than that some are?”

 

Huh.

 

Mamoru chuckled. That same dry, raspy sound, laced with something Seiya wasn’t good at naming.

 

“Still…” Mamoru said, gave him a look, and trailed off.

 

Yeah. Hands off. He got that, thank you very much.

 

Mamoru threw him a look again, frowning, starting to talk but stopping again. And then shrugged, a little helplessly.

 

“I’m glad you’re there for her,” Mamoru said, after some struggle. “She can use every friend right now,” he added, that same, weird emotion laced into every word.

 

Seiya sat back, frowning, the rubbish chair creaking obnoxiously loud.

 

He looked back at Mamoru, who’d fallen silent, warming his hands on his mug, but not taking any sips from it.

 

And finally he got it, what that look in Mamoru’s eyes was, why he sat out here on his own, why his laughs sounded forced. He recognized it.

 

He saw that look a lot lately, whenever he looked into the mirror.

 

Mamoru was heartbroken. Just the same as Usagi was.

 

Seiya swallowed. “You, too,” he said, and Mamoru flicked his eyes to him briefly, frowning, before putting on that neutral mask again.

 

 _You can use a friend, too_ , Seiya thought. But he didn’t have the guts to say it, anymore. To elaborate.

 

Instead they sat in silence. Seiya tightened his arms a little around his middle, trying not to shiver, not to seem wimpy next to the guy who’d sat out here for much longer. But Seiya didn’t venture back inside, either.

 

Instead, he kept Mamoru company.

 

“These are horrible chairs, by the way,” Mamoru said after a while, his cup still full, but no longer steaming.

 

“I know. We didn’t exactly go interior shopping, you know?” Seiya shrugged, and leant his head back against the window behind him.

 

L

 

Usagi was a bit perplexed, the next day at school, when Seiya strode straight toward her, pulling fabric out of his bag and handing it to her, wordlessly.

 

She took it, and her eyes widened, when she realized it was a shirt. Light grey, soft material, button-up… her favorite. She swallowed, felt the stab at her eyes, as she gingerly brought the fabric to her face, inhaling.

 

Mamo-chan…

 

“It's not _today's_ shirt obviously, but he wore it all night just for you,” he mumbled, with a slight flush of his skin, when she looked back up at him, shirt still to her face, eyes wide. “And I think he got angry at the foreign politics section, this morning, at least it looked a _bit_ like frowning, as he read that, and he smiled when he came across a rescued kitten story.”

 

Usagi lowered the shirt, and pressed it to her chest, hugging it, however her eyes stayed on Seiya, and her throat constricted.

 

“Thank you, Seiya” she managed to whisper.

 

He nodded, pressing his lips together, his eyes shining in a way she didn’t understand, and sat down in his seat behind her, just as the bell rang, and their math teacher walked into the room.

 

L

 

Mamoru had managed to stay calm for about a minute, after the tug in his gut had appeared, signaling danger, and his insides started burning in a way that indicated one thing, and one thing only.

 

Usagi was transforming.

 

He’d snatched up his communicator. Silent. Of course it would be. They had shut him off. He wasn’t supposed to come. He wasn’t allowed to come near.

 

But…

 

He’d started hyperventilating, started pacing. Yaten and Seiya threw each other looks, but he could only mutter, something was up, before his willpower had crumpled, or maybe it had never existed in the first place, and he’d dashed from the apartment, falling down the stairs in his haste, but got back up, running blindly, running…

 

It was Seiya who tackled him to the ground, in the middle of the street. Taiki who came to help hold him down, when Mamoru had broken free despite of it.

 

He was feral. Terror took his brain over.

 

He only registered snippets of conversation as a crowd of people had gathered, asking Yaten if they should call the police, if everything was alright.

 

Mamoru calmed a little at that. A little, only.

 

“It’s not the Animamates,” Seiya had hissed in his ear, above him, quietly. “We would feel them coming.”

 

“No,” Mamoru ground out between clenched teeth. “No, it’s not.”

 

He had no time, no patience to explain about the goo. The acid, the burns, the night they all almost died. That they needed him to heal. Had no patience to exclaim that there was no way for them to fight this thing without being found by the Animamates in the process.

 

It was as if Seiya read his mind, when he continued hissing into his ear, twisting Mamoru’s arm painfully to keep him down. “They will _definitely_ find her, if you go.”

 

Mamoru deflated. Stopped struggling. Seiya loosened his hold instantly, but not completely.

 

“Where?” Seiya asked urgently.

 

Mamoru was about to blow up again. He’s not a bloody GPS signal, it’s a feeling for god’s sake, and it’s his job to go, but… he knew they were right. And who was he kidding? He shouldn’t be so arrogant to assume he’d be better than they were to protect her, when they all needed him to stay behind.

 

He gave a description of this feeling as best he could, Yaten already on his phone, running off, Taiki following.

 

Seiya turned back to him, helped him up, looked him in the eye before running off, rushed harried words Mamoru only fully registered when he was already gone.

 

“I’ll protect her like you would.”

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, pleaaaase, please, pretty please?
> 
> 6 chapters to go!


	26. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: My eteral&forever thanks to UglyGreenJacket, thanks for always having my back, love!
> 
> And thank you guys for reviewing, again. I know I’m taking you through the most painful season ever– and it means a damn lot for me that you’re here for that and still cheering me on!
> 
> T h a t b e i n g s a i d -   
> I want to express my deepest sympathies to all my american readers. What happened in Las Vegas is so awful I cannot fully put it into words. If you're emotionally raw about what happened there last night, please do me the favor and TURN AROUND, and read this chapter another time. We're getting to the end of this series, and I want you to heal first.
> 
> Anyway, here we go, with another earlier-than-thought chapter.

L

 

Makoto lifted her gym shirt carefully, biting back an agonized groan.

 

“No, wait!” Minako hushed, as Usagi jumped in front of Makoto, already dressed, to shield her, but then deflated. “False alarm, go on.”

 

Makoto sighed and finally put her shirt away, revealing a back full of acid burns, the skin crackling yellow on the sides where it peeled off, but was scabbed over well enough to heal, by now.

 

She hurried to put the shirt of her school uniform back on, and they repeated the procedure with the gym shorts – thankful, once again, that in winter they were allowed to wear long sleeved sweatshirts and longer gym shorts, instead of summer’s gym uniform, that could just as well be underwear for all the skin it managed to hide. No way would any one of them have been able to hide any of their battle injuries in _that_.

 

They took turns. Lingering behind, trying to simply seem incredibly chatty and slow, till most of the other girls had already left the gym locker rooms, and then hiding each other from view as they changed.

 

Usagi went first, this time. The cuts and burns on her legs, sanitized and neatly dressed, only hidden by two, high knee socks worn over one another, the deep purple bruises along her shoulders and collarbones by far easier to hide, the healed over scars on her tummy and back already fading to yellow.

 

Makoto finished, quickly, sighing, and proceeded to tower in front of Minako, as it was her turn to change. Her injuries were by far milder, and with Makoto standing guard, the easiest to hide from view.

 

It was an ordeal. Not only the pain, but pretending nothing was the matter, of course. It wore on all of them.

 

Though Makoto, of course, felt she shouldn’t complain. It was a miracle any of them were still alive, with the two week long marathon of near constant goo attacks behind them. Sadly, so many civilians hadn’t been so lucky – with the Senshi only able to rely on their own natural accelerated healing – the Starlights being the exception, of course – they had to be much more careful. They couldn’t mindlessly jump into the fodder like this, had to physically keep Usagi from doing so, either, and in the process, more innocent bystanders had died than ever before.

 

Still, the thought nagged. Why hadn’t the Animamates attacked? They must have noticed them. Rei’s glamours were strong – but _so_ strong? Even with Yaten’s help, who was remarkable at glamours… there was simply no explanation.

 

_‘They like to play mind tricks’_ , Taiki had said, over and over. That they protected each other, tended to wait until the moment their victims were feeling a false sense of security, forgot to look behind them again, and only then they would attack. That they would attack the moment they’d almost forgotten they were there.

 

Makoto snorted in her thought, and Usagi threw her a curious look, to which Makoto just shook her head. As if that would happen anytime, soon.

 

By the time they finally exited the locker room, the halls were already deserted, only the screeching sound of rubber soles on gym floor to be heard, as the sports clubs had already started their after-school training.

 

It had been quiet for three days, now. Giving them time to heal a little, and the three of them were back to school. Ami had calculated a pattern, told them with some certainty no goo attack was likely to appear for half a week, maybe, if it acted like it had in the past.

Meanwhile Ami manned the controls, nearly 24/7 on the look-out, only going into Infinity more or less sporadically, anymore, saying she had enough education, she could pick up easily should they all survive. It was a school that tolerated strange behavior, anyway. Meanwhile Rei had dropped out of school altogether, to be able to glamour all of them nearly constantly, and recover during the day.

 

It concerned Makoto more than anything else that had happened. The fact that the two most diligent and conscientious people that she knew had left all concern for their personal and daily lives at the door to Senshi command central.

 

Makoto finally let out that agonized groan she’d been holding in, once they were off the school grounds and completely out of earshot of anyone they knew.

 

_God_ , her back hurt. Some magic healing would be _all too nice_ , right about now.

 

“What I wouldn’t _give_ to have Mamoru around,” Makoto said, without thinking, and flinched even before the words had fully finished leaving her mouth, shooting Usagi an apologetic look just as Minako rolled exasperated, chiding eyes at her.

 

Usagi rolled her eyes. “It’s ok, you guys. He’s not dead, you know? You can talk about him.”

 

Makoto sighed. That’s what Usagi said, but she still could see the way her eyes clouded anytime anyone mentioned his name.

 

“Plus, you’re right,” Usagi sighed, stretching with a painful cringe.

 

Minako was about to open her mouth, and Makoto threw her a glare, pretty much automatically.

 

“What?” Minako said, holding up her arms. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, I swear!”

 

Makoto blinked. It was right. Minako hadn’t been smart about Mamoru for a while now… she hadn’t even noticed that.

 

“You’re right, it would be good to have him around,” she shrugged.

 

Usagi stopped, wide-eyed, looking at Minako as if she’d seen a ghost.

 

Minako rolled her eyes. “C’mon, it’s not as if I’ve never said anything nice about the guy.”

 

Makoto chuckled, Usagi threw Minako a look. The last time she’d witnessed the two of them have a conversation about this, months and months ago, before this all started, had ended with them fighting over semantics, and if or if not it had been Sailor Venus’s fault that Serenity had eloped with Endymion in the first place, or not (‘You said go be with the guy, but do it in secret!’ – ‘Excuse me?! I didn’t mean _secret marriage_ , I meant wait until the bloody coast was clear! With tons and tons of “please” and “I beg you”s added, mind you. _You_ ran with that.’).

Makoto sighed. She never really understood the grudge Minako held, anyway. She sometimes wondered if she’d get it better if she remembered all they lost because of that romance.

 

Usagi sighed. “You know,” she said in a small voice, “I sometimes wonder if you have to hate him so you don’t have to hate me, instead?”

 

Makoto blinked, and Minako stopped walking, throwing Makoto helpless looks, before addressing Usagi.

 

“Usagi, no! I could never hate you! And I don’t hate him, either!” Minako cried, horrified. “And… and… you were too young! You had no idea that…”

 

“Mina-P,” Usagi said, “I was the exact age that I am, now… And you’d all been my guardians _forever_ by that age…”

 

Minako quieted, looked at her feet, and Makoto cleared her throat to lift some edge of the weird silence that had followed.

 

“Well, how’s he doing over there, anyway?” Makoto said, trying to make conversation. And she did want to know. She missed him, too.

 

Usagi just nodded. “Ok,” she mumbled.

 

Makoto frowned, walked a little slower to match Usagi’s pace. “And you?”

 

She shrugged.

 

All three of them sighed.

 

Then Usagi straightened up, willed on another cheerful smile, for their benefit. “You know… he mentioned the other day, in passing, how he drove by Suntory Hall, and how quick they are reconstructing the roof.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Makoto asked, tone brighter, as well.

 

Minako frowned. “What, he _drove_? Does he drive, now?”

 

Usagi nodded, her smile turning a little darker again. “Um… yeah. He bought a motorcycle a couple days ago. I only found out the other day, too, that he finished his license…”

 

Makoto could read it in her face as clear as if she’s said it. The sadness that she hadn’t been there for that, hadn’t celebrated with him. Was so terrified she’d never be there for anything again.

 

They’d risked a world to be together in a past life, and now they still couldn’t be together without risking another. Makoto couldn’t begin to understand that.

 

“Oh, Usagi-chan…” Minako said, sympathetically.

 

Usagi cleared her throat, and that cheerful smile was back. “I’m fine,” she said, completely unconvincingly, in Makoto’s opinion. “Don’t worry. Let’s have those milkshakes, yeah?”

 

They both nodded, Minako and her, and they turned the corner.

 

It was getting darker faster, being the middle of December, and the sky was starting to turn dusky. Everything was illuminated in fairy lights, with Christmas and New Year’s coming up.

 

Though that wasn’t anything they mentioned, anymore, around here. Biggest date night of the year coming up, which Usagi wouldn’t get to spend eating tons of fried chicken and Christmas cake with her Mamo-chan this year, like they did last year. And then New Year’s… They would all celebrate together, again, at the Tsukinos, with Ikuko’s Mochi, and Rei coming by late after the festivities as the shrine ended. It would be strange for Makoto as well, not having him there.

They could already see the blinking neon light of the Crown arcade up ahead, illuminating the sides of the street in colorful light reflections.

 

She glanced back over at Usagi. And while her expression was completely neutral, she knew she was thinking about Mamoru still. Makoto knew how afraid Usagi was about what might happen.

 

But she didn’t know how to cheer her up. She couldn’t relate, really. Yes, she was terrified at every attack, every injury… but in the long run?

 

“You know,” Makoto mumbled. “I know it all looks pretty grave… but I trust in you,” Makoto said with a shrug.

 

“Eh?” Usagi made, blinking.

 

“I know you don’t wanna hear it, but I do think Haruka and Michiru are right. I do think you’re the Messiah, and that you’ll keep us all safe, and everything will turn out fine,” Makoto said, smiling. “It’ll all be over soon, just like the last times,” she added, confidently.

 

Minako nodded, too, cheerfully. “She’s right, Usagi-chan,” she chimed in. “We’ll be alright, I promise. And you’ll get him back sooner than you know.”

 

Usagi exhaled deeply, and straightened up, as they approached the Crown’s automatic doors.

 

“You’re right,” Usagi smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

 

L

 

He’d heard the door ring, inside, obviously. Had felt the familiar flair of the person calling the door, talking briefly to Taiki, as he sat out here with his book and the moon, on his designated plastic chair.

 

And even though he knew who it was, it still surprised him to see Minako in the balcony doors, two tacky, pink, canned proseccos in one hand.

 

He raised both of his eyebrows at her.

 

“What,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised. You must have felt me coming a mile ahead with your weird spider-man-senses.”

 

She waved the fingers of her free hand at him in a peculiar way, wiggling each one, and he quirked the side of one lip up despite himself.

 

“Not surprised you’re here, just confused about the why?”

 

She shrugged.

 

“Did Usako make you?”

 

Her features fell into an annoyed glare. “ _No_ …”

 

He raised another eyebrow, until she rolled her eyes, and plopped down in the plastic chair left vacant beside him, scrunching her nose up a little about the way it creaked.

 

She pursed her lips, looked at him sideways, and then out toward the view. “Maybe a little.”

 

He smiled.

 

Minako didn’t look away from the view when she began speaking, just a beat later. “She’s pretty lonely without you. Not her usual self.”

 

His smile fell.

 

He sighed, looked out into the night as well, contemplating what to say to her. Why are you here? Are you glamoured? Isn’t this dangerous? Did something happen? Somehow, even when he knew things to talk about, it didn’t come so easy to him with her.

 

But she spoke, instead.

 

“How are you doing?”

 

He shrugged.

 

It was Minako’s turn to sigh, and roll her shoulders, as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “So why are you out here? Yaten says you tend to cave yourself away out here.”

 

Mamoru smiled briefly, rolling his eyes. “Yaten talks a lot for someone who claims to not be a people person and bored of everything.”

 

Minako shrugged once more. “I have a way with people,” she said, with a smirk and a wink.

 

“I’m sure.”

 

She opened the first pink can with an audible plop and sizzle, as the little metal flap broke, and offered him the other one.

 

He raised his eyebrow again.

 

“Oh c’mon. Let me do this bonding thing in style, yeah?” she shook the can at him a little.

 

He took it, snorting softly, opening it up.

 

She raised hers in salute, and he mimicked her, and took a sip. His face scrunched up. It was awfully sweet, the bubbly wine.

 

Her chug was a little larger, as they once again fell silent.

 

But he did know what he wanted to talk about with her. What he’d wanted to talk about with her for a while now, but she’d always shied away from it. He guessed there was no time like now.

 

“Thank you,” he said, softly, without looking at her, in a tone he was sure she would understand couldn’t be about the sugary alcoholic beverage.

 

She turned to him, her brows furrowed in utter confusion.

 

“That night.” Mamoru shrugged.

 

She blinked at him, and he could see it dawning on her face. _That_ night. The first goo attack, the night everyone had almost died, hadn’t she made him go on and on and on.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” she said, eyes growing big. Yeah. _That_ night… And then that confused look was back on her face, laced with a good portion of disbelief, and he was pretty sure she contemplated whether or not he’d lost his marbles.

 

“ _’Thank you’_?!” she repeated with a scoff.

 

“Yeah…” he shrugged, again. It seemed to be all he did tonight.

 

“I nearly killed you!”

 

He lifted his shoulders once more,kept them up a little longer, and let them drop a little slower.

 

“I couldn’t have done that without you…” he said, inclining his head to her briefly before looking back out – nowhere, really, just away.

 

He heard her exhale deeply, before she put the can back to her lips, taking a rather big sip.

 

When he looked at her sideways again, she was bent over the pink drink, fiddling with the metal flap.

 

He looked back out, gave her time.

 

“It was the first time I realized how much we need you,” she said, after a little while. Her voice was quiet – quieter than he’d ever heard her talk. “As Senshi, I mean. We couldn’t have done it without you. I’d have lost all of them.”

 

He nodded.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, softly, after another beat of silence.

 

It was his turn to look at her confused, and her turn to shrug.

 

“For that night,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “That’s what I’ve been meaning to say about it.”

 

He blinked, opened his mouth to talk, to repeat what he’d said before—

 

“Yeah, don’t say I don’t need to apologize,” she shook her head with a roll of her eyes. “Because I do. I nearly killed you.”

 

He pushed his eyebrows together, frowned at her. “Well, don’t—“

 

“If you say I don’t need to feel bad about it, I’m gonna smack you,” she glared at him.

 

He closed his mouth with a click of his teeth.

 

She sighed again, took another sip of her prosecco, glared pointedly at his can until he did the same.

 

“I didn’t have a lot of respect for you and your power…” she said, voice low.

 

He didn’t bat an eyelash. He understood that. He didn’t have a lot of respect for himself sometimes, either. Compared to all of them, he really wasn’t much of a fighter. Especially when that was what Endymion had prided himself with. But… impeccable swordsmanship didn’t go far when compared to magic.

 

“…before that night,” she finished, and he threw her a look.

 

“I didn’t realize how important you were. The back-up you provide. Not as a fighter, but as a protector, a healer. Sure, you’re not gonna be the person who offs the enemy. And let’s face it, me neither, but…” she took a big breath.

 

He smiled. “I’m the buffer character,” he supplied.

 

She grinned at him, surprised, was about to make fun of him for using videogame vernacular, and that he’d spent too much time around Shingo, or Usagi, he was pretty damn sure of it, but she just snorted, and nodded, with a slight flick of her head.

 

“Yeah, I guess?” she laughed. “I guess you’re the buffer character. And I forgot how important the buffer character was. I guess one doesn’t realize until…” she broke up, sighing. “Well,” she shrugged, and pulled the sleeve of her little jacket down, showing a big ass bruise.

 

Mamoru hissed through his teeth, audibly. She knew she was just making a point, yet the sight worried him. Mostly because she acted so nonchalant with it – she, the biggest drama queen he knew – as if she was used to the injuries already. As if they were but a daily hassle.

 

Even the portion he could see of it was twice the size of his outstretched hand, spanning from below her elbow up toward her bicep, disappearing underneath her cream colored cardigan. It was an old bruise, dark purple, courtesy of the iron in the cells being released during the healing process, edged completely in yellow, caused by the breakdown of bilirubin.

 

He didn’t ask permission this time – mostly because he knew Minako would surely act weird about it, so he just grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm steady, as she started protesting -for show, he could read her emotions that much – and touched the sore portion of skin tenderly with his other hand.

 

It glowed golden immediately, and the purple began to shrink in on itself, the yellow edges inching closer inward, until the bruise completely faded.

 

He retracted his hand, and let go of her wrist, as she cleared her throat, and mumbled a sheepish ‘thank you’, and that that wasn’t what she meant.

 

He clasped his hands together, and raised his shoulders. “What I’m good for, right?”

 

She rolled her eyes and sighed, and pulled the sleeve of her cardigan back down.

 

“Point is, I get it now. And I’m sorry I didn’t before,” she mumbled into her can.

 

Mamoru nodded, clasping and unclasping his hands.

 

“You are, you know?” he said, giving her a look. “The one who ‘offs the enemy’, as you put it.”

 

She scoffed. “No, I’m not, and you know it.”

 

His shoulder twitched as he inclined his head to her. “Not directly, maybe. But you’re nothing if not resourceful. You’re fierce. You pull through. You plow along until the danger’s gone. And you pull others through. Like me,” he said, crossing his arms.

 

“You say it was me who saved everyone that night…” he continued, eyes at the sky and not at her “…but I was mostly unconscious for it. You were the one who pulled through, kept me up. They would have died without you, that night. I was just your instrument at the time. And you would have found another, if I hadn’t been around.”

 

She snorted. “Like what, a 24 hour magic ER?”

 

He smiled, shaking his head a minuscule amount. “An ER would have been a good start, anyway.”

 

Conversation slowed again, as Minako pursed her lips, seemingly contemplating what he’d said.

 

They sat in silence for a while. Inside a light flicked on, and then back off, and Minako twisted her formerly injured arm this way and that. Her phone lit up in her pocket, and she pulled it out. A name flashed up on her screen, male. One he hadn’t heard before, but that was pretty much normal, as well as her scoff at it, as she declined the call.

 

Mamoru looked at her, but she didn’t comment, so he simply chose to wait. And she did continue talking, after a little while, after a big sigh and drop of her shoulders.

 

“Usagi said something to me today,” she began, “it’s actually not really that important, but it made me realize how very much I needed to hold onto that grudge toward you. How much I needed to blame you so I wouldn’t blame her, and myself.”

 

He swallowed. He was pretty aware they weren’t talking about that night anymore, but different nights, millennia ago.

 

He took another sip of the atrocious prosecco, a big one this time.

 

“And all that grudginess made me forget one very important thing,” she said, and then looked him in the eye.

 

He knew better than to point out that that wasn’t really a word, but kept his mouth shut, waiting.

 

“We’re all humans, now. This time around. Citizens of Earth. Whom you are the rightful ruler of,” she gave him a look, and he blinked, confused about what she was getting at.

 

“I mean...”she continued, with a flick of her hair. “I might not like you all that much most of the time, but I know that technically you're not _a_ prince – as a human you're _my_ prince…” she trailed off, and his eyes widened when he finally got what she was getting at, and started to shake his head vehemently, as she talked right over him. “…just as much as Usagi is my princess. We're bound to protect you, too, now, in a way.”

 

“Oh, you _really_ don't...” he started, voice low and incredulous, eyes wide.

 

Minako snorted at him, and the way he looked so very appalled. “This isn't really a discussing matter, Mamoru-kun.”

 

He started at her use of the suffix. She’d never called him that, before. It sounded much too friendly on her tongue, if he was honest. Not that he couldn’t live with _that._

 

“We are Senshi,” she shrugged, with a smile. “We are born to protect.”

 

He snorted. “I'm the protector though. It’s what _I_ do.”

 

She turned to him, lifting herself up, puffing out her breast and ribcage as she sat up straight and put her hands in her hips, appalled. “What, you too tough to be body-guarded by a bunch of girls, or what?”

 

He chuckled. “No. Never.”

 

Her stance depleted as she smirked at him, and she took another sip.

 

“Besides,” she added, shrugging, “I'm sure Kunzite's ghost will come to poltergeist me for the rest of my existence if I don't. And who wants that, right?”

 

He laughed out right at that, and he was certain she only took a sip from her can that moment as to not laugh along with him, at her own joke.

 

She still smiled though, as his laugh ebbed to a chuckle, and gave him a look that, for the first time, made him feel like they might even become friends one day.

 

“Right,” she said, and rolled her eyes. “Here, gimme your phone.”

 

He snorted. “No way, Mina.”

 

She threw him another look. It was the first time he’d used somewhat of a nickname on _her_ , as well. It didn’t last, though, and she rolled her eyes again, more dramatically this time, and extended her hand expectantly. “Just gimme.”

 

He did, but very reluctantly, and not without leaning over her shoulder to see what she was doing.

She went into his settings, then the ringtones, and instead of adding something, she changed… ah. Right. So constant vibrate _was_ a good thing, then…

 

“What was it?” he asked.

 

“’I'll make a man out of you’,” she said.

 

He just furrowed his bows.

 

She blinked at his confused look. “ _Mulan_? ‘Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?’” She lowered her voice about two octaves and brought her chin to her breast as she intoned, “ _Be a man!_ ” with a fist raised in the air, in the worst impression of a male voice he’d ever heard.

 

He shrugged. He’d never heard of it.

 

“Well,” she said, with some disappointment, “then it wouldn't have been so funny, anyway.”

 

“What ‘s it now, then?”

 

She winked dramatically, as she handed him his phone back. “For you to find out, of course.”

 

He chuckled, and leant back into the chair, the plastic creaking dangerously. “So, how'd that date go?”

 

She looked at him, a little bewildered, and he nodded towards her own, hazardly slid-away phone.

“Oh, right.” She said, and then looked at it with disdain. “Eh.. you know how it is,” she said, and then frowned. “Or maybe you don’t.”

 

“You'll find someone,” he said, feeling lame even before he’d finished uttering the sentence, but for some reason, she didn’t seem to mind. This really wasn’t the type of conversation he’d ever see himself having with Minako Aino.

 

She shrugged. “Well, you know the drill, ‘never to be married, never to find another love’…” she said, her voice turning overly dramatic.

 

He bit back a laugh. “You find love every week, Mina.”

 

Minako scrunched up her nose, and threaded one hand through a strand of her hair. “They are never right.”

 

“Well,” he started, shifting noisily on the plastic, “I really don't believe in that curse. You'll find love.”

 

“I have love,” she said.

 

He nodded. Usagi. Most unconditional love of all, of Senshi to her princess, sibling to her baby sister, friend to her friend.

 

“Well, one you can take to bed, then, without me going after you.”

 

She scrunched up her nose in disgust for just linking the two things together, and he chuckled.

 

“Yeah. Usako already pointed out the irony to me. The only person I really _am_ jealous of is the only one who _doesn’t_ want to take her to bed.”

 

Minako giggled. “Told you, you're a moron.”

 

He chuckled, again.

 

“Well,” he said, still laughing. “I'm sure there's some manly, burly, macho, yet- feminist, silver haired guy out there for you who will carry all your bags nevertheless.“

 

Minako’s eyeroll this time was more the type he was usually used to from her. Utterly annoyed. “Are you saying I'm too picky?”

 

“Well you know what you want, that's for certain.”

 

She pursed her lips, as she sat back, crossing her arms defiantly. “What makes you so sure it's gonna be a man?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Well, whomever you want then.”

 

This time she nodded in approval.

 

He exhaled, and looked at her sideways. Afraid he was risking the tender truce they seemed to have going for them, if he prodded farther, but…

 

He swallowed. “…So, if you don't mind me asking… Are you _actually_ into Rei or do you just enjoy riling her up?”

 

She shrugged, blushing, and Mamoru realized with a start he had never seen the woman blush before, in any lifetime. "Maybe a bit of both", she mumbled.

 

Ah. “Well, then,” he said, and clinked his half empty can against hers. “Good luck with that.”

 

She smiled first, then snorted. “Well, it’s not like there’s time for a relationship is in my near future, anyway.”

 

He cleared his throat as well. “Well, one day, when you’re older, you’ll look back on this and see it wasn’t that big a deal.”

 

She whipped her head around, looking at him skeptically, amused, and that tiny little bit amount of condescending. “Oh my god, are you _serious_? Are we going there? You’re giving the princess of _Venus_ all those empty, pseudo-wise phrases on _love_?” she said, laughing haughtily.

 

He ducked a bit, trying, trying not to blush. “Well I _am_ older than you,” he said, defensively, crossing his arms over his chest again.

 

“Uhuh,” she laughed, eyebrows raised, shoulders shaking in her mirth. “Right. Don’t gimme that grown-up shit, Mamoru. I’ve seen you on that crane game for weeks, and weeks, and weeks until you got that stupid Tuxedo Mask doll of yourself.”

 

This time he couldn’t keep the blush a way, and tightened his knotted arms some more. “Well,” he mumbled, “at least I don’t write fanfiction of myself.”

 

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Minako put one hand on her hip, one finger in the air. “V-chanBlast is an _institution_! My fanfiction is _the best_. I’m owning this, you can’t get me with this.”

 

“It’s also disturbing.”

 

“For your fanfic-virgin eyes maybe, you little smut whimp.”

 

They were interrupted, by the shrill beep of her communicator. He felt the skip in her heart, the lace of fear, as she whipped it out.

 

His heart was in his throat.

 

Ami’s harried, puffy, high-strung voice cut through the night. She was running. “Animamates, Juuban-dori, they found Usagi.” And then a beep, and she was cut off, Athena’s voice repeating the exact coordinates, over and over.

 

He could feel his heartbeat, deafening through him as Minako jumped up, knocking her can sideways, forgotten, the rest of the prosecco spilling onto the tiled, terracotta floor of the balcony.

 

She flew out of the door in a second, yelling instructions for the Three Lights, telling them to come along.

 

Seiya jumped immediately upon hearing Usagi’s name, and he found himself, without noticing, running with Minako, until she stopped, looking at him, pushing him back tensely.

 

He stopped. Right. He couldn’t. He couldn’t…

 

He put his hands to his mouth, pressing against the fear, as he watched them rush out of the apartment, one by one.

 

L

 

Keep away from golden light. It had been Rei’s mantra, ever since the dreams had started. Should be easy enough, she’d thought. Especially when she knew, by now, what this golden light meant. The bracelets. With forewarning like that, she’d be pretty stupid to run straight toward death, right?.

 

Right…

 

It had been so easy to think.

 

But of course it excluded the fact - why didn't she think of it before - that there would always be _one thing_ that would make her run towards it.

 

She’d been the first to arrive at the scene. So, so relieved to see the glow of silver from afar. Usagi, dancing, fighting, and the roll of thunder and lightning breaking from Makoto’s hands, who’d been with her when they found Usagi.

 

Her heartbeat sped up when she saw the bracelets, on each of them. Lead Crow, Aluminum Siren. It was the first time she’d seen them in person.

 

They were back to back, Makoto and Usagi. And she couldn’t help the fierce pride she felt as she ran.

 

The way Makoto rolled Usagi across her back, helped her redirect her aim, the way they ducked every shot, every beam of golden light.

 

When you’re too weak to do damage, at least be fast enough not to be harmed. It was what Makoto had kept saying, over and over these weeks, during training at the Hikawa shrine.

 

She didn’t run to join them, though. Not directly.

 

She held her breath when she realized they hadn’t noticed her.

 

She stopped. Stealth was something she’d always been the best at, among them.

 

Usagi’s eyes were glowing, silver, her hair flowing in the air as she danced away from every lash of that whip, every beat of ice. But it was close, always so close. And she could see the way her steps weren’t sure-footed, growing clumsy with fatigue.

 

She balled a fist, willing on the fire to pool in her hand as she treaded softly, pulling, forming it, like bow and arrow.

 

She held her breath as she landed, with a jump, right behind Lead Crow, her aim at her head.

 

Rei didn’t hesitate. She fired.

 

Lead Crow turned around, faster than the she could blink, eyes flashing, and stopped her arrow with her bare hand. The fire licking at her hand but doing no harm.

 

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the copper woman smirked.

 

“ _NO_!” she heard Usagi’s scream, even before the leather of the whip had wrapped itself snugly around her throat, pulling, lifting.

 

_“CRESCENT BEAM_ ”

 

“ _STAR GENTLE UTERUS_ ”

 

She heard Minako’s frantic, exhausted voice first, saw the glowing orange light overlapping with sizzling beams, right at the whip, and do absolutely nothing to it, as Lead Crow laughed, tutting.

 

Rei tried to gulp in air, tried to claw at it, but nothing would come across. She felt tears spring to her eyes, her pulse running, as she saw the other – Aluminum Siren, smirk and raise her bejeweled arms.

 

Keep away from golden light. It should have been so easy.

 

“ _NO_!” she heard Usagi again. But this time, with her voice, the ground shook.

 

A wave of silver light, like a pulse, emitted from her, blindingly light.

 

Rei drew in a sharp, noisy breath as the leather that held her up crumbled to dust, and she fell, hard, to the ground beneath.

 

She looked up with wide eyes at Usagi, who was dropping to her knees, dizzy, having expelled that pulse of energy too quick, too undirected, out of pure adrenaline. Watched Venus – out of breath, harried, grab her arm and yank her away, just before the deadly beam of light that was formerly aimed at Rei hit Usagi, instead.

 

It grazed her arm, and she screamed.

 

She ran, quickly, horrified, as Lead Crow, stripped of her whip, shouted out an attack, aimed at Minako, and Seiya, right behind her.

 

“ _GALACTICA TORNADO_!”

 

It all happened within a second.

 

Minako was torn away from Usagi, there was nothing she could do to hold on, crashing into a car across the street, indenting it as she howled in pain. Seiya hit the wall behind her.

 

Aluminum Siren, who landed behind Usagi. Lead Crow, who stood in front of her.

 

Usagi dropped to her knees, digging her hands into the ground to get up on her own, clenched her knees to pool the last bit of her strength. It would come back, any minute, it would come back. Too slow.

 

Yaten and Taiki, rushing toward both attackers, raising their star shaped lockets. Too far, too slow.

 

Saw Ami, arriving at the scene, screaming, running, too far.

 

It all went by as in slow motion, to Rei, as she willed her legs to just go faster, meeting Makoto’s eyes over Usagi’s crouched form.

 

Makoto’s eyes were wide, as they looked back and forth. Not too far. Just right. Just like her.

 

Rei saw the look in Makoto’s eyes change. From shock to determination. Mirroring her own. Saw the nod as Makoto did the same she did, no forewarning at all for her.

 

Usagi was trapped in the middle, aimed at by both sides.

 

There would always be one thing that would make Rei run toward it. There would always only be one thing that would make Rei choose this, run towards what she knew would be her death.

 

Protect Usagi.

 

Yet it she had thought she’d be alone when it happened. And not that Makoto would be right down that lane with her, without hesitation.

 

It was but a moment. Just a single moment. Both Lead Crow and Aluminum Siren thinking themselves so clever, locking Usagi in position, attacking from both sides, bracelets raised in attack.

 

Usagi screamed both their names, first Makoto’s, then hers.

 

Rei had never gotten her old memories back. She'd wanted them to come on their own.

 

Which is why she gasped, just that split second, before the light hit.

 

_Princess Serenity. That little, unruly girl, barely five, the heir to an empire. The nannies always said she was the hardest nut to crack, the wildest kid they ever had to tame._

_But on this particular day, Serenity sat quietly and orderly, next to her mother as was her place, even at that young an age, as they waited for that meeting to be over._

_Earth was in open rebellion. One of them had to be with her at all times now. Serenity had overheard the order and exclamation._

_When they filed out of the room, Her Majesty staying behind to sign the formal documents, Mars stiffened a little, as Serenity's tiny hand grasped her larger one._

_She exhaled. It wasn't seemly...but the way her tiny hand trembled, Mars's hand tightened around that small fragile one._

_“Mars?” she’d said, raising her chin far up and the back of her neck angling up in order to look at her._

_“Yes, Your Grace?”_

_“What do they mean when they say you are my ‘vita clypeus’?” she pronounced the last word carefully, slowly, and Mars was surprised she’d gotten it right. Serenity had trouble with hard words sometimes. But she guessed she’d heard that one often enough._

_She pressed her lips together, contemplating a lie, but.._

_“It means that I will protect you with my very life, Princess.”_

_Serenity jerked to a stop._

_“No!!!” she yelled, yanking her hand free._

_Mars looked around, startled. “Your Grace…”_

_“No!!!!!”_

_And then she started crying. Big fat bubbly tears._

_Mars knelt down, and Serenity fell into her arms, clutching at her._

_Against better judgement, she tightened her arms around the little girl._

_“Promise me,” Serenity wailed, “Promise me that you will never die for me. Never.”_

 

And then the light hit. She heard Usagi's cries, and Minako's piercing scream. She felt someone's hand, around the back of her head, warm.

 

Heard Makoto’s choked, last words, nearer than she’d been before.

 

And then she felt nothing.

 

L

 

Hotaru clutched at her breast as she collapsed, screaming, on the floor of her bedroom.

 

Heaving, choking, clawing her fingernails into the carpet.

 

It was the worst attack she’d ever had.

 

She could almost understand them, the voices in her head. Almost. They called.

 

Like a blanket of moist blackness, trying to take her under, drowning in waves and waves of thick oily darkness, calling to her from the very ground.

 

Every last one of her many lamps flickered, as if she let out some kind of energy, and maybe she did, but she couldn’t think, because it felt as if something were attempting to break through her very brain.

 

And her mind gave out for a bit.

 

When she blinked again, as if waking, she sat at her desk, across the room, her phone in her hand, beeping. Disconnected.

 

But she had no idea how she had gotten there.

 

She let it drop from her hand, frightened. Shivering. Contemplated to call for her Papa, to call for help.

 

She closed her mouth. Her Papa wasn’t there, even when she knew Souichi Tomoe to be in the next room.

 

L

 

Minako would love nothing more than to think what she felt now was new. But she knew it. The despair, the anger, the terror, as Rei dropped limp into Usagi's arms, Makoto right behind, as she watched Usagi clutch both their faces against her chest, sobbing hysterically, their bodies disintegrating like vapor in the wind.

 

But it wasn't. She'd felt it before, millennia ago, watching Serenity die.

 

It welcomed her, enveloped her, familiar.

 

She felt it, the _wrongness_ of it, that it should be grief, anger, _hate_ \- the very thing they were _fighting_ against - that made the pit of power in her grow larger, the ribbons on her fuku grow long, going super.

 

But it was blinding, so blinding.

 

She didn’t hear her own scream, just felt the raw edges cutting through her throat when she did. Her voice, disembodied ringing through the air as she shouted unfamiliar words.

 

“ _VENUS LOVE AND BEAUTY SHOCK—_ “

 

She hit Aluminum Siren square in the face, burning, scorching her like it should have been Rei's place to do. Heard the cry of Lead Crow as she bounded toward her partner.

 

_No_ , Venus thought. _No. You don't get to keep her_.

 

She attacked, again, harder, stronger.

 

But the air wafted, and with a look of utter loathing Lead Crow disappeared with Aluminum Siren, injured, in her arms.

 

Her attack blasted into empty space.

 

The scream Minako heard, and realized only later was hers, was guttural, broken. Angry. So, so angry.

 

L

 

Mamoru was pacing, his scalp hurting from the way his hands pulled at it, and ran out into the hall when he felt them returning.

 

He stopped at their startled looks at each other. Unsure. Searching for words.

 

His stomach dropped, making him feel sick as he asked.

 

“Who?”

 

And his stomach broke again, when the names were uttered. In horror. In grief. In shame for the flash of relief that it hadn't been her. His eyes started flooding, his jaw set.

 

He ran past them. Taiki grabbed him by the sleeve, shouting, he can't. Seiya, running after him, yelling at him to be sensible.

 

He brushed them off, blocked their voices. Ran for his bike.

 

He didn't remember the ride, just the roar of the engine and the wind cutting at the skin of his face - he'd forgotten to put on the helmet.

 

Passed the threshold where he wasn't supposed to be, banged his fists on the door - he no longer had his key ready in his pocket.

 

It was Shingo who answered. He glared at him, hard. Frustration, accusation, relief bursting from the boy.

 

But Mamoru just pushed in without a word.

 

They were in the living room. Ikuko was in Kenji’s arms, holding a pot peculiarly, crying even as she bit her lip, trying to stay strong. Ami was sobbing, her face on her knees. Minako sat next to Usagi, Artemis concerned around her feet, her face dry and blank, her hands bloody…

 

Usako.

 

She sat there. Catatonic. Eyes unfocused.

 

He burst forward and crushed her to him, holding her. Her arms went up, slowly, around him.

 

“I’m here,” he whispered against her temple. “I’m here.”

 

And she cried, finally, thick, heavy tears and sobs she almost choked on, into the crook of his shoulder.

 

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he hushed, mindlessly, although he was crying himself.

 

Her sobs turned so heavy she started to gag, and he held her more tightly, rocking her back and forth jerkily.

 

“Y-you need to go,” she choked out, trembling hard, her fingers clawing into his back. “You need to go. I can’t lose y-you, too. You’re all in danger because of me.”

 

He pressed his lips to her temple, rasping the words out as his whole frame shook from the force of her sobs. “Not tonight, Usako. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

 

Her cries grew stronger still, and he noticed Minako, her tears now falling, too, biting into her hands, next to them, before she got up – out the screen door and into the backyard. Then he heard her scream.

 

He pressed his hands on Usagi’s back, trying to get her to breathe through the sobs, her fingernails clawing into him so strong he dimly registered the pain.

 

“I made the wrong decision, Mamo-chan…” she cried, her words broken by chokes and gulps of air. “I should have never risked it. We should have never sent that beacon. I should have never led them here. It’s my fault. Mako-chan and Rei died saving me… it’s all my fault.”

 

He held her tighter. “It’s not. Usako, it’s not.”

 

He repeated that, over and over, but he knew she didn’t hear him, she didn’t hear anything, as she cried, and cried, and cried, calling their names desperately.

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Right… so… I’m gonna go hide behind that rock, ok? Don’t hate me please?
> 
> (And yes, I want all you tears. I’m sorry. Please let me know how you’re doing after this, and what you thought of it!)


	27. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Here we go. The beginning of the end. I’ve nicknamed this chapter “grief”, as it deals with the aftermath of Mako’s and Rei’s deaths. My take on this story has always been a more realistic one; and were this to happen in real life, then there would be no way people wouldn’t have died along the way. Death is a part of war, any war, and I didn’t want to downplay that. Just as grieving is something that will struck all the people down who lose someone – and I always imagined it would hit Usagi among the hardest. Someone who loves so dearly and completely will just about be broken by loss.
> 
> Anyway. Please trust me where I’m going with this. And thank you for sticking around (I know some of you are pretty damn mad at me right about now!)
> 
> Thank you for everyone who reviewed, it means the WORLD to me to hear your opinion on this, and I hope you’ll like this chapter (and tell me about it some more ;) )

L

 

Mamoru was gone when she blinked her eyes open, but the spot where he'd slept wasn't empty. Luna lay on his pillow, watching Usagi with sad eyes.

 

Usagi swallowed. The tears returned immediately, as she snaked a hand around her cat and sobbed into her fur.

 

To think that yesterday the saddest thing in waking up was searching for Mamoru during the night in that moment between sleeping and waking, when she didn’t remember he was no longer here, causing her to wake up bewildered and then unable to fall back asleep.

 

God, she’d give it all away to have them back.

 

The sobs came harder, and Luna brushed her little paws against Usagi’s face, shushing her, nudging her with her little face.

 

She calmed down after a little while, and turned her face to her window. The sun was shining brightly. It was a beautiful day.

 

How could the sky not cry for them, too?

 

Usagi turned onto her side toward the window, and exhaled, slowly, trying to calm herself. It came out through trembling, shaking lips.

 

“Mako-chan said yesterday that she believed in me to keep them all safe,” Usagi whispered, eyes still fixed on the blue sky outside.

 

“Oh, Usagi-chan…” Luna whispered at her back, cuddling closer, as the tears started falling down Usagi’s cheeks again, silent this time, pooling in the crook of her nose and collecting on her pillow.

 

“They would be safe, if they’d never met me, Luna,” Usagi whispered hollowly.

 

And they would be. Usagi knew it in the hollow pit that currently disguised itself as her heart. Neither Rei nor Makoto had fought with her because they had any sort of memories that had made them feel either obliged or driven them to defend a princess they couldn’t remember. They had chosen to fight with her, Usagi. Protect her, Usagi.

 

They’d have never joined this fight if Usagi hadn’t met them, or confided in them. If Usagi hadn’t been so eager to have companions in this. They’d never have become Senshi if Usagi hadn’t met them.

 

They’d died, because they’d met her.

 

They might all die, because of her, yet.

 

“ _No one_ is safe, Usagi-chan,” Luna whispered.

 

Usagi exhaled again, nodded, and wiped at her tears.

 

She got up slowly. She needed to be strong. She needed to win, so they didn’t die for nothing.

 

But _god_ , any time she even thought about it, it felt as if her insides ripped apart.

 

She curled her fingers around Luna’s little ear, scratching behind it, stirring the soft fur. “Thank you for coming, Luna,” she whispered.

 

Luna didn’t answer, just jumped into Usagi’s arms, as she got up, and stayed close to her, as she changed into the first random clothes she grabbed at in her wardrobe – not her school uniform. There was no way she could go through school today. Plus – judging by how light it was outside already, she’s missed a good portion of it already, anyway.

 

She didn’t even take note of what it was that she dressed in, and needed to change again when Luna reminded her quietly that it was cold outside.

 

She picked up Luna again, hugged her close to her chest as she descended the stairs. Her mother was up and waiting downstairs. She sat in the dining room, eyes lost in the distance, fixating on nothing.

 

She jumped slightly, when Usagi entered the room, surprised, and then her eyes turned soft and concerned, and Usagi rushed into her arms.

 

Ikuko held her tight, cat and all, rocked her back and forth, and Usagi bit her lip to not start crying again.

 

She needed to be strong. She needed to be strong for them.

 

Usagi exhaled loud, calming breaths once more, as she extracted herself from her mother’s embrace.

 

“Is… Does…” Ikuko started, broke off, and then cleared her throat before trying again. “Has anyone told Grandpa Hino yet, or should I go there, today?”

 

Usagi swallowed, and then shook her head. “Mamo-chan said he’d go this morning. He’s probably already there…”

 

Though she really didn’t know what Mamoru was going to tell him. There wasn’t even a body they could bury. Nothing but a stolen crystal remained of either of them.

 

Ikuko nodded, swallowing.

 

She put a plate in front of Usagi, as she sat down. But for the first time in her life, Usagi didn’t feel like eating.

 

Luna nudged the plate closer to her, when she’d just sat in front of it for a little while, and Usagi sighed.

 

She jumped, just like her mother had done, when a noise startled her. Chibi-Kiju… No, little _Kakyuu_ –she’d _never_ get used to that –came bounding down the stairs, humming and whistling, a bounce in her step.

 

She blinked, startled, her eyes flying to her mother’s, wondering, how in the world anybody could be happy in this world anymore, when she realized…

 

Chibi-Kiju had already been in bed, last night. She didn’t _know_.

 

Usagi’s eyes met her mother’s, again, who looked at her sympathetically. How would they _ever_ tell her…

 

Ikuko cleared her throat, tried to will on a cheerful tone, and not managing at all, really, when Chibi-Kiju climbed on her designated chair, leaned her face close to the pancakes on her plate that Ikuko had placed there for her, inhaling deeply with a happy sigh.

 

“Well, why are you in such a good mood today, Chibi-chan?” Ikuko said, somewhat forced.

 

Chibi-Kiju beamed, from ear to ear.

 

“Mako-chan said she’d take me ice-skating today, when she’s back from school!”

 

Usagi's eyes widened, and she tried not to, in front of her, but the tears came, anyway, and she pressed her hand to her mouth, while she threw her mother a desperate, helpless look.

 

Chibi-Kiju looked at her, frightened, brows drawing together, mouth opening into a concerned oh, when Ikuko met Usagi’s eyes over the table, nodding, and held out her hand toward Chibi-Kiju.

 

“Come on, Chibi-chan,” Ikuko said sadly. “There is something I need to tell you.”

 

Chibi-Kiju took the offered hand, but her eyes stayed on Usagi, who bit her tongue to keep from sobbing, as Ikuko led her out of the room.

 

She heard the murmured voice, as her mother explained, and the heart-breaking, anguished shrieks that followed.

 

Chibi-Kiju understood death, of course. No one needed to explain to her what that was.

 

L

 

“Here are this week’s reports, professor,” Kaorinite said, handing him a few wads of papers.

 

The cat-like smile that graced her lips as the stack slipped from her hands into his gave him all the information he needed, of course.

 

Still, he flipped to page 16, immediately. There it was, written in pencil.

 

His breath hitched.

 

“ _Time for the sheep to prove its worth. Don’t mess this up, maggot_ ,” Germatoid hissed through his mind.

 

 _Growth at 100%. Ready when you are_.

 

He swallowed, flipped the paper shut and put it on his desk, before leaning over and pressing the intercom button on his phone.

 

“Kaori?”

 

“Yes, professor?”

 

Souichi Tomoe’s voice was hoarse and crackling when he croaked his answer.

 

“I just remembered I need to reschedule Hotaru’s treatment today. Bring her in immediately, will you? To the basement lab,”

 

He heard the sickening smile in Kaorinite’s voice as she answered.

 

“Of course, professor.”

 

It was a moment, when he leant back in his swiveling cheer and it screamed, creaking, under his weight, as he racked his arms through the silver strands of his hair, and then got up, donning his lab coat, grasping the handle of the door with trembling hands, when Kaori’s voice, once again, was heard, this time through the speakers on the side of his lab.

 

Just as it was heard through the entire building of Infinity.

 

_‘Tomoe Hotaru to the basement laboratories. Tomoe Hotaru to the basement laboratories.’_

 

It sounded as inhuman and cold, almost mechanical, as what was to come, now.

 

He only hoped she was ready.

 

L

 

Taiki felt something he hadn’t felt in years, when he tentatively knocked at the cream colored door of the Tsukino household.

 

Nervousness.

 

The phone call from Usagi’s mother had been unexpected. He’d been disoriented for a moment, not connecting the dots, not remembering who it was that was talking to him.

 

Only when she’d corrected herself, started talking about Kakyuu instead of ‘Chibi-Kiju’, had he gotten who it was.

 

That she had to go to Juuban High today, as well as the police. Report and notify them of Kino Makoto’s… disappearance, then go to her apartment to pick up all the most urgent ends, as Makoto had no family of her own that would do it for her. That she needed someone to watch over Kakyuu while she was gone, who was grieving terribly. That Usagi was too emotionally raw to do it, today. That she wouldn’t ask otherwise.

 

Taiki had stumbled over his words, assured her that, of course, he would be there immediately, and how thankful he was that she would call him and no one else. Not adequate, not nearly adequate, but the first things that rushed out.

 

And so he stood there, his heart in his throat, when Tsukino-san answered the door, her eyes bloodshot and sunken, and was led to Kakyuu, already in her winter coat, eyes puffy and unseeing.

 

She’d always been so very compassionate. She’d always been so very quick to cry and grieve over every last being, from plant to person, at any age.

 

He knelt down in front of her. Amazed, once more, how she didn’t look at all different from how he remembered her when she was this age, so many years ago. As if someone had misplaced him in time.

 

He knew better than to say he was sorry. Or to ask how she was. Instead he cocked his head sideways, level with hers, tried to catch her unfocused eyes as he held out his hand to her.

 

“Shall we go for a walk?” he whispered.

 

She nodded, mechanically, not looking at him. And strode little, heavy limbs forward, without taking his hand.

 

He nodded and got up, bracing his hands on his knees to do so, and met Ikuko’s concerned, sympathetic eyes over Kakyuu’s small frame.

 

Ikuko nodded, wordlessly helped Kakyuu into her little shoes, and sent them off with a wave and a sigh, already turning to the coat rack herself before she’d even closed the door behind them.

 

In the end, Kakyuu led the way, more or less. It seemed aimless at first, until he realized she was avoiding the most obvious paths – as if she avoided walking ways she’d walked with them.

 

He sighed. He’d seen this before, that very morning. The hunched stance and defeated eyes, when he and Yaten had gone to the youngsters to tell them of their deaths. It was where he’d come from, left Yaten to keep them company. And while the youngsters seemed to grieve most for Hino, Kakyuu seemed to grieve most for Kino.

 

“You liked her very much, didn’t you?” he whispered.

 

She nodded, quickly and erratic, pursing her lips, scrunching up her nose, then wiped angrily at her eyes.

 

“What did you love most about her?” he asked tentatively.

 

It was a while until she spoke, her steps small and slow and she sighed and looked into the sky and around her, carefully choosing her words as he knew her to do at any age.

 

“She had no pity, only understanding and warmth, for all and everything,” she said, finally.

 

He looked at her, blinking. She was wiser than she’d been at the age of four. It tugged at his heart, seeing that the Kakyuu he knew was very much inside.

 

They walked on, past the unmarked borders between the neighborhoods of Juuban and Azabu, and then Roppongi, the buildings becoming higher and grander.

 

“How…” Kakyuu started, pursed her lips, and then started again. “On Kinmoku, what did they do with their dead?”

 

He looked at her, noted the way she spoke of ‘them’, and not ‘us’, or ‘we’.

 

Like her, he took a while to answer. She didn’t seem to mind, like she never had. They had always been alike in that regard, both tended to take their time to answer in the best way possible.

 

“You have to understand that our way of living was a lot different on Kinmoku,” he said. “Life on Kinmoku strived to be in harmony with both nature and science. Cities weren’t built with cement and asphalt, crushing roots and soil, but with stones and metals that honored and enhanced the nature that was already there, planting vertically, harvesting our suns’ energies efficiently and economically,” he blinked, and looked at her. Her eyes, this time, finally, were on him.

 

“We are more aware of nature. We see it, and our world, Kinmoku, as our mother. As the being that nurtures and sustains us, and that we have to treat her well, and she will treat us well in return. That life and nature are the same, a never ending cycle that we are but a part of.”

 

He stopped briefly. In front of that was a little shop, the curtains drawn and closed, but outside stood a little bench, filled with flower pots, the plants in it mere little naked shrubs, hibernating through the winter.

 

The only part of nature currently visible, here, in his field of vision, in this world of grey and concrete.

 

“So, we believe in nature as our nurture, and in its laws, told to us by science. In harmony of the elements. Every being on every planet, if they notice or cherish it or not, lives in close symbiosis with their planet. It's a perfect, genius but fickle, ecosystem in which we are synchronized with nature, and even the rotation of planet itself, in the way we grow naturally tired in our planet’s rhythm, as only once example. And… we knew that energy can never be extinguished or created, that it can only ever change, that it will always be there.”

 

Kakyuu nodded, “Law of conservation of energy. First law of thermodynamics,” she said, nonchalantly, and Taiki blinked again. Taken aback.

 

And at his look, she said, “Ami-chan lets me choose my bedtime stories. It’s funny how some things here make complete sense, and others don’t at all.”

 

Definitely a whole lot of his princess still in there.

 

He nodded, clearing his throat, and then chuckled. “Exactly.”

 

“Well,” Taiki continued. “Because we know that nothing that made this person can truly go away, it only can change, rearrange its composition, it has an influence on how we bury our dead,” he said.

 

Kakyuu looked up at him. They’d stopped walking, and he knelt in on front of her, again. On one leg, like he always did, in front of his princess.

 

“So... in our funeral ceremonies, we paint organic silks and cottons with the story and well wishes of this person's life, and then wrap the body in those fabrics, and bury it far beneath the earth, no caskets or anything like they do, here, sometimes... nothing to separate the body from the mother earth,” he trailed off, and Kakyuu nodded at him to continue.

 

“And in time…” Taiki said “…the body decays and fertilizes the land, turning the person’s molecules back into the nature around us, the sulfates and proteins and minerals letting the flowers and plants sprout, giving us oxygen to breath. That is another reason why we know that nature is our mother ... because it is the resting place of all our mothers, sustaining us, giving us crop and air and life and energy to grow new life, as they play their part in the eternal circle that is life.”

 

Kakyuu nodded, frowned, and then smiled slowly. He was pretty sure what that expression meant on her little face, this was one of the things that made complete sense to her.

 

He got up and fell into step with her, again. This time neither of them talked, until they rounded another corner, weaved between the skyrises.

 

“What about all those people who died?” Kakyuu asked again, and he knew she was talking about the snippets and fragments of impressions she still had from Kinmoku’s destruction. Piles of burnt bodies between the rubble.

 

“Have they been buried?” she asked, her voice small and quiet.

 

Taiki swallowed. “No.”

 

Kakyuu nodded, swallowing, as well. Her eyes, once again, strayed off into the distance.

 

But this time, her small hand reached up, absentmindedly, to grasp onto his.

 

He looked down at her hand, wide-eyed, his breath hitching. The hand so small and tiny and warm and fragile in his, reminding him of everything he had been sworn and born to protect.

 

He tightened his hand around hers ever so slightly, holding her little hand carefully.

 

“We need to go back one day. To bury them,” Kakyuu whispered.

 

L

 

Usagi found herself walking aimlessly. The walls at home had been too hard to bear, at every turn she’d imagined the rustle of the wind to turn into the sound of Makoto in the kitchen, or Rei’s exasperated growls and chuckles. And it became too much to bear, when her mother had left her to do what shouldn’t be her responsibility to do.

 

The silence had been even worse, and so Usagi had stepped into her shoes and donned a coat she only later realized wasn’t actually hers, and started walking the streets of Minato.

 

The sun had gone and the skies had filled with low, dark clouds, and somehow it had calmed Usagi that the weather finally fit the grief in her heart.

 

So, she walked. Just on, and on, letting the cold wind brush at her face as she concentrated to breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Don’t let the tears come. You are stronger than that.

 

She started for a moment, not really knowing where she was in this jungle of skyscrapers, not having taken note where her feet had carried her, when she thought she’d seen a glimpse of Chibi-Kiju’s reddish-pink hair, and a brunette ponytail, but then they were gone from sight and she didn’t know if she’d imagined it or not.

 

She stopped and sat on a bench between a little shop whose curtains were drawn – rows of little pots of wilted plants stood in front, waiting for their rebirth in spring – and a conbini. A little display of the basic, clear, transparent umbrellas stood in front of it, marking the cloudy, murky, grey skies, even when no rain had fallen yet.

 

She dug in the pockets of her coat for her purse, finally noticing her lack of breakfast, contemplating to go in and buy a bun, when she remembered this was not her coat that she had grabbed, and her purse was still at home.

 

Usagi sighed, and let her hands drop. She sat for a little while longer, breathing in the smell of coming rain. It reminded her of Mako-chan.

 

Someone sat down on the bench beside her. The width between her and the other person was wide – another person could have sat in it – but she was suddenly aware of the dried tears on her face, and the far oversized coat she now realized was her father’s.

 

“Are you alright?” the stranger asked, the voice sounding concerned.

 

Usagi nodded quickly, wiping at her face without looking up.

 

“When something bad happens, you should wish upon the stars,” the stranger said, voice warm. “Only the stars themselves are good, they are where everything comes from. Starstuff.”

 

Usagi frowned. What a strange thing to say.

 

She glanced over. It was a woman. Strikingly beautiful, in a simple, white shift dress and nothing else, not even shoes. Usagi blinked. Her hair looked like spun gold touched by fire.

 

“You know, all life grows from star seeds. Every galaxy, every star, every planet and everything on them in the universe. They are eternal, indestructible, incorruptible… but not the people wearing them.”

 

Usagi blinked again, suddenly alarmed, but the stranger talked on. Her voice was strong, but like honey.

 

The woman’s eyes finally met hers, as she turned to face her. Beautiful red eyes, full of purpose, that ran a shiver down her spine. Usagi started to tremble.

 

“You have no idea, little one…” the woman said, eyes intense, “… how easy it is to corrupt them. How fast, how fickle. They don’t deserve this pure, true power. They can’t be true to it. No one. Every one of them will bend under Chaos, in time. We can’t give this sort of power to Chaos, little one, do you understand?”

 

Usagi gulped. She didn’t understand. Who was this… who… how…

 

“The Silver Crystal is the Crystal of Purity, did you know that?”

 

Usagi’s eyes widened, as she froze, petrified.

 

“You, Sailor Moon, are the Senshi of Purity. I had high hopes for you, little flower. But _even you_ cannot manage to ward Chaos off your planet.”

 

As if a light went on in her mind to illuminate the confusion, Usagi was suddenly sure who this was. Her lips trembled, as she exhaled.

 

Galaxia went on talking, but it washed over her. Usagi’s eyes fixated on something in her hand… twirling, twirling between her fingers…

 

“There are people on your planet who are doused in Chaos. Murderers, rapists. And the sneakier, less obvious ones. Those who value gain over life, and they influence those who run all those nations. Your people destroy the planet they live on. Without a second thought they lay waste to it, for greed and comfort, they gut its core and essence when they already know ways to fill their needs without destroying it. And you let them? Why do you let them, Sailor Moon?”

 

Usagi couldn’t listen. In Galaxia’s hand… Three crystals, no, Star Seeds, being pushed around and around. . Red, Green, Dark Crimson. Usagi recognized them instantly, and she felt it, felt her blood bubbling, the anger rising as she realized …

 

“Ah, yes. There it is,” Galaxia purred. “I can feel it, the hate. Chaos. I knew it, always. Even Purity can be corrupted. I so hoped you might prove me wrong…”

 

Usagi lunged for her hand, but with a flick of her wrist, the Star Seeds were gone and Usagi let out a guttural cry.

 

She jumped up from the bench. Everything would have been more logical than to stand and talk. She should have transformed, she should have… but…

 

“Why are you doing this? Give them back to me!” she cried, instead, like a little, frustrated girl.

 

Galaxia’s balmy smile fell, as she got up herself. With a wave energy, like a pulse, Usagi was petrified, again. Couldn’t move a limp, as Galaxia breached the step between them.

 

“Do you not see, little girl, the darkness that follows light?” she asked, her face so close, Usagi could feel Galaxia’s breath on her cheeks, as she leant down a little to study Usagi’s eyes. “Do you not see the destruction your shadow brings? I need to rid the world of all the light, so no shadows can appear.”

 

Usagi swallowed, tried to move. Tried so hard to move…

 

Galaxia circled her, eyes never leaving Usagi’s form.

 

“I turned the soldiers from countless planets. They flocked to me like fruit flies to a rotten peach. It was so easy. You have no idea, little flower… All these strong, shining lives, and somehow, I am the only one who can carry Chaos without going under. The _only one_. That is why I will be the only one who shines. I will have them all, so Chaos doesn’t get a single one of them. I will bring the whole galaxy, and later the whole universe to its knees. I will subdue Chaos, until I am strong enough to banish it forever, not only seal it in myself.”

 

She stopped directly in front of Usagi again.

 

“Do you understand, little one? Do you understand?”

 

Usagi blinked. Cursed herself for the fear she felt.

 

Galaxia sighed, shoulders dropping. Disappointed. Then, she lifted her hand, and stroked Usagi’s cheek, almost lovingly. “It’s starting, my little flower. It’s starting, right now.”

 

And even as Galaxia was still uttering the words, the ground started shaking beneath her feet, and Galaxia stepped away from her. Just a step, but now she was clad in golden armor, her hair hidden in a golden headpiece, almost like a crown.

 

Usagi could move again, only to fall, the ground shaking so hard she could not stay on her feet.

 

An Earthquake?

 

But then the asphalt next to her broke apart, a long rift along the street as far as she could see and even more, and through it, as well from the sewers and gutters all around, the purple goo bubbled forth. Everywhere, all around, covering god knows how much ground, to a soundtrack of screams.

 

“It’s starting,” Galaxia repeated, her sound reflecting something that couldn’t be pity and remorse except that it was, but not a fleck of mercy.

 

L

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: A little not on Galaxia, here: Most of you will remember that scene in the Manga, where Galaxia, in her civilian form, approaches Usagi, dropping one of the star seeds (Sailor Crystals, in the Manga, but I just call them star seeds, like the Anime). Obviously I draw heavily on that here, but also on her whole narrative in the Manga, as well as the lyrics to her image song, Golden Queen Galaxia (AWESOME song, btw? The heavy organs, the rocky, darker sound to it?). So, all in all, if I may summarize, her (Manga-) story is this: She, as the Senshi of Destruction, is turning the Senshi of all these planets, taking their star seeds and instrumentalizing their power under her. As Animamates she sends them to the skies, as her henchmen, everywhere, to take more star seeds for her. She was born as “scum” on a planet full of “scum” (it’s the word my Manga translation used, though I don’t like it), which she left in the search to find a better one, a pure one. An incorruptible place, but she hasn’t found it. In the Manga she finds it in Sailor Moon, upon dying. Are you the Senshi who embraces all, she asks, proclaiming she’s found the planet she used to search for, at last, but that it shines too brightly for her to keep up, right before she, too, dies in the Cauldron.
> 
> All this boils into my narrative of her. What is if she’s still searching for that one true place? For purity and goodness? What if that is why she only ever strikes at the last second, what if she simply sticks around to observe first, to see if they might prove her wrong, if there is one Senshi who can withstand the hate, but never finds it. What if she’s always waiting for someone to finally stop her, but no one ever does? She herself says her ultimate goal is to “subdue” Chaos, bring it to its knees. But she, as the Senshi of Destruction, knows no other way but to bring all power to herself, to be strong enough to hope to destroy it, to ultimately keep Chaos from doing the same.
> 
> So, there you go. That’s the road I walk writing Galaxia.
> 
> And, while I’m on it, another note on all the stuff Taiki told little Chibi-Kiju/Kakyuu about the society of Kinmoku, as I’ve followed all throughout this story:  
> While the way I composed the information into a cohesive, interlinking narrative to form my imaginary society of Kinmoku stems from my imagination, of course, most (but not all) of the elements in it, do not. Having the rare opportunity to be allowed to imagine a society from scratch, I chose to look into science and borrow from multiple sources. It's a collection of ideas, from how Neil deGrasse Tyson explained a Utopian future of how we could treat our world a little better in his documentary series Cosmos: A space odyssey, to principles in the synchronicity between planets and its inhabitants as explained by Hall, Rosbash and Young, this year's Nobel Prize winners in the category of medicine and physiology. It's got a bit LeGuin and a bit Butler, a bit Carl Sagan and a bit ancient celtic and germanic tribe beliefs regarding what they called Mother Earth. It's a mischmasch. I spun it together how it fit, and borrowed where I could.
> 
> And, from the architectural designs Sailor Moon Crystal had of the resurrected Crystal Tokyo – cities bubbling over with green, I like to think that this utopian society isn’t far away for Earth in the future of the Sailor Moon universe, either.  
> And maybe we too will learn, as well. (Hopefully!)
> 
> Anyway,  
> Ramble out. PLEASE let me know what you thought of this chapter!!
> 
> A giant THANKYOUTHANKYOU as always to UglyGreenJacket, who always edits these monster chapters for me whatever her schedule – she always makes it happen – and I’m so grateful for that, love, you have no idea.
> 
> (Next chapter will go back to weekly posting, as I’m going on an extended weekend trip, and thus won’t get back to writing a word until Monday – so expect an update late-ish next week or so, at the earliest, if I don’t get motivated to word-vomit sooner than that ;) )


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So…. If Yugen were an actual season of Sailor Moon, we’d be in the end part, with the final battle spanning a few last episodes. So, this is all action-y from here on out, and intense, so I hope you’re prepared!

 

 

Hotaru heard the high-pitched screams of the fleeing students of her school, the shrill sirens that usually only blared when there was an Earthquake, the breaking glass, the gurgling rush of the purple substance that seemed to originate from here… down here, exactly where she was.

 

“Papa…” she whimpered.

 

Souichi Tomoe’s eyes flickered. For a second she thought she saw her father… her gentle, loving father. The man who had once, patient and concerned, spent a whole evening that he should have held a lecture in, retracing her steps because she had lost her favorite toy. The man who had once spent an entire night in her little, cramped, children’s bed, one of her first memories, because she’d been afraid of the dark and woke every time he tried to leave. The man who had cried like a little baby, so proud, when she’d performed in her first school play.

 

But it was gone with the set of his jaw and a rigid flick of his shoulder, as he came up to the machinery that held her, and pulled a lever.

 

Hotaru was stripped down to just her underwear, and the black, old-fashioned shift undergarment that used to be her mother’s, her cyberkinetic limbs hooked into the machine, the long cables and steel rods flowing into her body like veins.

 

She cried out when she felt a clear, purple, glowing substance enter her body.

 

“Papa...” she cried, again.

 

He flinched, scrunching his eyes shut, as Hotaru started hiccupping.

 

“Why…? What are you doing to me?”

 

Behind her, in the barely lit dark laboratory, was a glass dome. She recognized it – it was a perfect replica of the kind that had caused the accident that stole both her mother and her bodily functions.

 

The fact that it was glowing, incessantly pouring forth – or sucking? She wasn’t sure – the purple acid into the ground and ceiling, almost scared her more than being plugged into a machine like a piece of technology.

 

Her father cried out suddenly, clutching at his head. “ _SHUT UP_!” he yelled, and Hotaru jumped a little, startled, the movement causing the cable protruding from her right thigh to pull into her skin, drawing blood.

 

“I’m sorry, I…” Hotaru stuttered, frightened, “Please, I just…”

 

“Not _you_ ,” he said, shooting her a look that seemed just a bit like what used to be concern on his face.

 

She frowned, her lip trembling…”who…”

 

He growled, and repeatedly hit his fist against his temple. Hard. It didn’t seem like he’d heard her, but then he pulled a chair up in front of her, and sat in it, pulling out the old-fashioned handkerchief from his pocket that he always carried with him. Her mother’s, as well.

 

He dabbed it carefully against the blood flowing from her thigh.

 

She couldn’t contain the sob at this. It broke through her throat, tears pouring thickly from her eyes.

 

“I’m sorry, Hotaru,” her father whispered, hoarse, broken, “but it’s our only chance. You are our only chance.”

 

Her voice was shaking, breaking, when she answered through the thick veil of tears and snot.

 

“What’s going on, Papa? Please…!”

 

His voice sounded like a stranger’s, when he answered.

 

“You must know what it’s like, don’t you? The voice and feelings in you that aren’t yours?” he whispered.

 

Her eyes widened.

 

“Just that for you…. For you it must be two,” he continued.

 

Hotaru’s breath hitched, and her hiccupping turned into coughs.

 

“It’s my fault, Hotaru. One of them is my fault,” he said, continuing to rub at the little wound around the cable, turning slightly toward the lab table beside them, pulling at a drawer.

 

He waved his hand behind her, holding a little bottle of disinfectant, toward the dome. “All of this is my fault. I led them here.”

 

Hotaru frowned, her tears coming slower through her confusion. Did he mean the accident? But… “Who? Who did you lead here?” she asked.

 

He beat at his chest, and then placed his hand on her chest in turn, immediately, the satin of her shift letting the coldness of his fingers permeate.

 

“ _Them_ ,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes, a stare so intense she had to blink.

 

She didn’t want to understand him, of course. She wanted to think he’d gone insane. She did understand him, however. The darker one in her chest. The one who cherished the darkness. The one who found joy in killing.

 

“It was a deal, Hotaru. Your mother… and then you…” he took a deep breath, scrunching his eyes shut tightly. “They saved you. And in return, we became their hosts… It was the only way…”

 

He cleared his throat, shaking his head, when he opened the bottle of disinfectant, tilted it slightly, and dabbed a piece of cotton at it. The liquid slowly soaked into the white puffy material.

 

Hotaru couldn’t speak, only listen.

 

“I’ve been trying, and _succeeding_ , to keep yours dormant, Hotaru. For _years_. But now…” He took a deep breath. “It’s time, Hotaru.”

 

She trembled, hissed as the alcohol in the wet piece of cotton burned against the cut.

 

“What for, Papa?”

 

But he didn’t answer. Not really. Not right away. Instead, he said, “You feel the darkness in them, right? The black pit of… hate.” His look in his eyes grew hard, his eyes turning to slits, as he dropped the bloody cotton in the bin at his foot.  

 

When he was done with the wound, he left it open. It had stopped bleeding. There was no way he could dress it, with the cables protruding.

 

He simply sat back, with a sigh. It was a while before he spoke again, the air filled with distant-growing screams and this ever constant blair of the sirens, as the building was deserted, turning into an eerie, purple graveyard.

 

But he did continue to speak, frowning.

 

“It’s as if they’re rotten. And they are. But they believe that the thing that destroyed them in the first place is here to save them. I call it Chaos - they call it Pharaoh 90. They believe in him, as if he were their savior. All this,“ he gestured wildly, behind her, to the lab, the dome, the goo, himself, “is to bring him here.“

 

He shook his head at her, disbelieving. “They _actually_ think he will terraform the Earth, so they may have a new planet in which they can live without having to hide in our bodies. They just want a new home. They’re ready to believe in anything, even their very own executioner,” he said darkly.

 

“But they don’t get that Chaos is playing them. Chaos will _always_ , and only, and forever, destroy.”

 

The look he gave her was intense, as he grabbed her shoulders, shaking. She shrieked a little.

 

“ _Forever_ ,” her father repeated, intense and harsh. “ _Everything_.”

 

He let go of her momentarily, looking warily at his hands, taking a deep breath to collect himself.

 

“Unless we stop it,” he whispered. “Unless _you_ stop it.”

 

Hotaru blinked, breathing erratically, sweating.

 

“What… Papa…”

 

He came back to her. Too close. It scared her.

 

“The other one. In your chest.” He poked his finger into her ribcage, just underneath her collarbone. It hurt. “The stronger one, Hotaru.”

 

Her lips trembled. The breath that came out made little wispy, milky white clouds of mist in the cold, cold air.

 

But not as cold and strange as her father’s eyes.

 

“You have no idea how strong I’ve become since I’ve had my daimon. But you, Hotaru… I’m just a human. As strong as I am with him, I could never do what _you_ could.”

 

He sat back. His look was wondrous. They way he used to look at his scientific journals, when he read of discoveries that fascinated him. Everything had always fascinated him…

 

“But you…” he continued. “Merged with your daimon _AND_ your Senshi… _you_ will be undefeatable, Hotaru, don’t you see?”

 

Hotaru swallowed. Frowning. What did he mean? He was insane, after all. She wasn’t strong. There wasn’t _anything_ strong in her…

 

His voice picked up speed.

 

“We’re bringing Pharaoh 90 here, like they want. It might still destroy Earth in the process, or it might not… but what’s important… if we bring it here, it gives _you_ the chance to end this. _You_ , Hotaru, you will end this circle of destruction, this epidemic of extinction. You will destroy Chaos, we will end this here, so it may never happen anywhere, ever again.”

 

Before she had the chance to say anything, anything at all, Souichi Tomoe had pulled the lever once more.

 

The fluid that rushed into her burned so much she felt faint. She couldn’t hear her own screams.

 

“I’m sorry, Hotaru,” her father said. “I’m so very sorry.”

 

She felt it, then. The pillar of energy that ripped through her, muting her screams. And she fell, deep, deep, into blackness.

 

What she didn’t feel, anymore, was the blade of a sword at her throat, strong hands of a blonde Senshi grabbing at her from behind, to her father’s horrified scream.

 

L

 

Taiki’s heart was in his throat. His only thought: Get her out of here, _out out out._

He clutched the little bundle of arms and legs, that was his princess, against his chest, running through the frantic, crazy streets, avoiding panicking crowds and the unstoppable and endless pouring of the acidic purple substance.

 

It came from everywhere. Every creak and gap and sewer. Pouring thickly like lukewarm caramel, leaving crumbled, hissing concrete, stone, metal, and skin, where the acid burned it from existence.

 

His heart was beating wildly, adrenaline the thing that kept him going. It was a familiar feeling; the final months on Kinmoku he’d been driven by exactly this feeling. But he’d never get used to it. His heart would never go through it calmly.

 

He was wild, feral, running over people. Get her out, out.

 

He couldn’t listen to what she screamed. Only when she bit at his arms, as hard as she could, and he loosened his arm for just a fraction of a second, and she squirreled out from underneath him.

 

 _No_.

 

“ _Princess_!!!” he yelped, his voice almost crazed, falling with his knees into the goo with a painful hiss in the quick attempt to catch her.

 

Kakyuu was running back exactly where they’d come from, slipping through legs of fleeing people, barely avoiding the purple goo as it kept exploding from the ground.

 

He ran blindly. Just after her. He didn’t care about the people he ran over in the process, didn’t care to look if they’d been harmed or fell into the substance because of him.

 

All this. They’d done all this to save her.

 

“ _Kakyuu_!” he yelled.

 

She wasn’t all that fast with her little legs. But small as she was she could run straight through the obstacles, like a mouse through a thorny hedge, which he couldn’t.

 

It felt like his heart stopped when he heard her terrified shriek, as, directly in front of her, the ground broke and a wall of goo spewed like a geyser.

 

He managed to snatch her up just in the nick of time, turning his back to shield her as he jumped away, screaming as a long single spit of it hit his back along his spine, burning through the jacket and shirt he wore, into his skin.

 

With a grunt he ignored his pain and clutched her harder than he had before. His grip so tight he knew he would be hurting her, as she whimpered, but he couldn’t risk her getting free again.

 

He _had_ to get her to safety. _He had to_.

 

“Let me go,” she cried, on and on, “Let me go.”

 

He found temporary cover, as he jumped up onto a destroyed, low, roof top of a two story shop. The way it had broken, the rubble falling on it, created a little cave that was protected from the acidic onslaught.

 

He dove. Taking deep breaths. They had a second, here, to catch their breaths.

 

Kakyuu was crying.

 

It was echoed along the walls, the way the makeshift cave was formed enhancing the acoustics, making her wails seem louder than they were.

 

The sound clawed at his heart.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he hushed. “I know you wished I was someone else right now. But you need to trust me – I’ll bring you to safety, I _promise_.”

 

“I don’t _care_ about my safety,” she spat, her tone desperate. “ _Please_ , Taiki, please!”

 

He frowned. Outside, another purple geyser exploded, silencing screams. Kakyuu clutched at him, her face wild and wet with tears.

 

“Please, you have to _help_ them! Please!”

 

He sighed. He understood what was the matter, now. Kakyuu had always had a pure heart, driven only to care for others. It was what made her the outstanding monarch that she’d been.

 

“My duty is to protect you,” he said, getting up.

 

“No!” she wailed, but Taiki was already leaning out of the cave. From up here, he could see it. There was a turning point, not far ahead. A few kilometers, tops. Like the sharp edge of a triangle, broadening out, in which no streets and buildings were broken. Like a triangle of safety, where the goo went no further. If he had to guess, the whole area of destruction was shaped like a star, maybe even covering the whole of Minato. 

 

There. He could get her there.

 

He hadn’t noticed he’d spoken his thought process aloud, or maybe he hadn’t, but Kakyuu answered him either way.

 

“Please, yes, I’ll go, I’ll stay there, but please… you need to help them.”

 

He turned back to her, frowned. “How do you even know they’re here?” he asked.

 

“Usagi would always be here,” she said, fiercely. And Taiki blinked.

 

Yes, he guessed she was right.

 

Her little face crumpled in tears again. “ _Please_ , Taiki. They are my family. I don’t want to lose anyone else. This is my home. This is _our_ home, now, don’t you see? Please—“

 

There it was again. Taiki’s chest constricted. There were the words his princess would have spoken, and not a four-year-old.

 

He grabbed his communicator, didn’t bother with the human technology of phones – no way would anything get through this catastrophe with theirs, and rewired it to adjust to Earth’s cell-phone frequencies. He spoke quickly, not waiting for a reply. Coordinates, repeatedly.

 

Then he lifted Kakyuu by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, as he scaled the rooftops, where he could avoid most of the Chaos on the ground.

 

She still protested, not understanding, but he ran.

 

When he finally, finally reached the eerily quiet border of destruction, even when sirens howled and people cried, growing wider where the inside point of the star shaped destruction zone ended, he jumped back to ground level,  put her back on the ground, gripped her hand, tightly, pulling her along.

 

A bit further, just a bit further.

 

She dug her heels into the ground, trying to pull at him, to get him back, but he pulled on.

 

He didn’t think he was ever as relieved when he saw whom he was looking for, in safety, at the exact coordinates he had sent out.

 

A car. Creating dark shadows under the murky, clouded over sky.

 

Kenji Tsukino flashed the headlights as if in acknowledgement and greeting. They were still too far for earshot. But the passenger side opened, and a boy got out, and behind him…

 

Ikuko Tsukino.

 

Kakyuu… No, _Chibi-Kiju_ let out a shriek, when she saw her and ran for her, faster than she’d run through the goo, falling into her arms.

 

Kenji Tsukino was frantic when he ran out of the car himself, toward him.

 

He grabbed his shoulders. “Are they alright? Where are they? I can’t reach anyone—“

 

His eyes were panicked as any parent’s eyes would be.

 

He heard Kakyuu’s voice again. She yelled. Loudly.

 

“ _Please_ , Taiki. Please!”

 

Taiki took a deep breath. He threw Ikuko a look. Dark, meaningful.

 

Ikuko understood, and nodded, hugging Chibi-Kiju, who was standing with her back against her, tighter toward her.

 

Kakyuu would be safe. And he would make sure her daughter would be safe in return.

 

Kakyuu was right. This was their fight, too. There was no running, anymore.

 

He took a last glance at her, and then, he took back to the rooftops, without looking back. Howled into his communicator, over the noise.

 

In the center of the star shaped zone was a beam of energy, where it all converged. This is where they would need to go.

 

L

 

Minako ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn’t really even look where she was going, barely dodged the falling rubble and the goo, and the streams of panicking people running in the other, logical direction.

 

She ran, through hell, or so it seemed, toward Infinity.

 

Ami’s voice was carried through her communicator. She was close, as well.

 

Infinity was the center of destruction, yet she was nowhere even near it, yet.  

 

Her heart pounded. Where was she? Where was Usagi?

 

She’d never been so scared in her life, when Ami hadn’t been able to locate her.

 

What the _hell_ was Usagi thinking, going out like that? They’d _told_ her. They’d _told_ her that with Rei’s death, the glamours were weakening. Told her to stay home, to wait in the place that had been glamoured the most, until Yaten came to renew them.

 

What if…?

 

No. She couldn’t think of it. Never.

 

The closer she got to the center, the calmer it got. Like the eye of a hurricane.

 

She transformed.

 

Most people fleeing had long deserted the center of destruction, and the whole vicinity of that dredged school for kilometers around it.

 

Those that hadn’t been able to, were long quiet. Dead.

 

The goo moved calmer, here. Waiting. Bubbling.

 

Venus slowed her steps, the skirt of her fuku rustling in the wind when she slowed to a halt, and her teeth clenched, and her heart filled with hate.

 

In the middle of the road, blocking her path, the air shimmered, and two figures appeared, between two steady, flowing rivers of purple.

 

Sailor Lead Crow. Sailor Aluminum Siren.

 

“Tsk, tsk,” Lead Crow tutted. “Someone’s glamour’s getting rather weak.”

 

Minako couldn’t help the disgusting feeling of utter satisfaction at the sight of Aluminum Siren’s face, neck, and chest. Scarred, deep brown and ugly, the skin welting and puffing and scabbing yellow and red, by Minako’s attack, only hours old, yet.

 

Her hands started trembling. The memory of Rei’s and Makoto’s bodies disintegrating into thin air shooting through her mind’s eye, as if triggered at the sight of them.

 

Lead Crow flicked her eyes around the place, whacking her finger like a disapproving parent. Condescending, amused.

 

“You should take better care of your planet,” she said, shaking her head, and then her eyes turned mocking. “And those you love.”

 

Minako knew she should be scared. She knew they’d barely ever even managed to even touch them, when it was all of them together.

 

But as Lead Crow simply nonchalantly lifted her biceps, golden bracelets starting to glow, something in Minako’s mind snapped.

 

Reckless. So reckless. She should hide. She should run.

 

But Minako had decided she would never run and hide in her life, again.

 

She jumped high into the air, fuku rustling, to dodge the golden light that ended Rei. She was far enough away from them that it was no problem, yet, of course.

 

“ _GALACTICA TSUNAMI_ ”

 

Aluminum Siren’s voice was shrill, as she shouted her attack, her icy colored hair lengthening and shooting out like waves at Venus. She tried to dodge, again, but the hair was everywhere, fast, so fast, and had trapped her like steel in a moment.

 

Lead Crow cackled, and lifted her arms again.

 

 _No_ , Minako thought, her jaw hurting from the intensity with which she clenched her teeth together.

 

No.

 

Her whole body started to tremble as she willed the Holy Sword of the Moon Kingdom into her hand by sheer willpower. An act that had never been done before by any Senshi in existence.

 

It materialized in her hand in the blink of an eye, translucent at first, but getting solid as she gripped its handle, with a flash of blinding, silver light.

 

Both Lead Crow and Aluminum Siren ducked away from the light, as Minako slashed her way out of steel-like, light-blue hair.

 

“ _GALACTICA TORNADO_ ”

 

She hit a wall with the force of a moving truck. It crumbled behind her back, and some of her bones with it as she howled in pain, yet got right back up.

 

“ _LOVE AND BEAUTY SHOCK!_ ”

 

She hit Aluminum Siren straight in the face, reopening her old wound, and, Venus realized with a glee she hated more than anything else, her eye, alongside. It started bleeding from the socket, as she fell to the floor holding her face.

 

 _Chance_ , Minako thought, and lept forward with her sword.  

 

Lead Crow’s whip trapped her around the waist, before she had any chance to get near Aluminum Siren.

 

With a flick of it Venus was catapulted across the street, right toward the river of acidic goo.

 

She braced her arms against her face, scrunching up her eyes, in that split second before impact. She wouldn’t drown, she would burn in it, she knew it.

 

“ _DOUBLE SHABON SPRAY, FREEZING!_ ”

 

Never in any lifetime had Minako been more grateful to hear Ami’s voice, as she shouted her attack, and Minako hit a small portion of ice instead of acid.

 

It still hurt immensely, as Minako hit the surface with her face, her temple and jaw cracking with a loud scrunching sound upon impact, just as she heard Ami shout another attack.

 

The acid bubbled over within moments, melting the ice and bloody indent her face had left in it, as she got up, bracing herself awkwardly on her sword.

 

Ami was attacking Aluminum Siren. The weaker of the two. Smart, as always.

 

She held her breath when Ami, with a lake worth of water catapulted at full speed, managed to knock Aluminum Siren backwards into the stream.

 

She screeched loudly.

 

And then simply rose.

 

Minako choked.

 

 _No_. They’re too strong. They’re just too strong.

 

Lead Crow cracked her whip, it hit Ami square in the chest, knocking her backwards. With a taunting swing in her step, Aluminum Siren, her back sizzling and scorched, eye bleeding, knelt right above Ami, and lifted those godawful bracelets once more, glowing.

 

 _No_.

 

Not again. She wouldn’t let this happen again.

 

She charged, and yelled, “ _VENUS LOVE ME CHAIN!”_

 

She would never be able to kill any of them. She was too weak. But she wouldn’t need to.

 

She just needed to get rid of these damn bracelets.

 

Her chain snapped around Aluminum Siren’s arms like a lasso, pulling her upward, and the beam of light with it. It missed Ami by a hair’s width.

 

But Minako pulled on, just as Lead Crow came charging at her.

 

With a strength Minako didn’t possess, she pulled Aluminum Siren with her chain of orange energy toward the goo, and dipped the lasso and not only her enemy’s, but one of her own hands right along, into the goo.

 

She nearly fainted from the pain. Heard Ami’s attack behind her, stalling Lead Crow as she howled, tried to come to the rescue, but Minako held on, even when Aluminum Siren kicked and bit at her, until she only cried, and begged.

 

Minako held on, knowing her own hand had already burned and sizzled to the bone, but somehow she knew, she felt it, when finally, the acid burned off the golden bracelets.

 

To her surprise, and Lead Crow’s agonized howl, Aluminum Siren’s whole body disintegrated into fog, disappearing. Just like Rei and Makoto had.

 

She snapped out of it.

 

One to go.

 

“ _GALACTICA TORNADO_!”

 

Lead Crow’s voice was breaking, as infuriated as Minako had felt since last night. Turning her sloppy.

 

It hit Ami, barely, but not her.

 

“MERCURY AQUA MIST”

 

Ami’s thick fog gave Minako the opportunity to get up close.

 

She felt Lead Crow’s whip as it his her stomach. Piercing the skin, cutting right through. She felt the thick bubble of deep red goey blood as it gurgled from her stomach, and her mouth.

 

“ _MINAKO!!_ ” Ami yelled behind her, frantic.

 

She felt faint, again. The blackness called her. But she couldn’t. She was so close.

 

She clenched her teeth, again, as Lead Crow’s bracelets started glowing in front of her.

 

With a trembling hand that turned steady, she grabbed at her sword, and with one quick swing, she hacked Lead Crow’s hands right off, bracelets included.

 

Her body cleared with Ami’s fog, as the Holy Sword clattered to the ground, as did she.

 

She heard Ami’s voice, as she was cradled in her arms, but it grew dimmer, fainter.

 

Far away, so far away.

 

Everything turned dark. Deep, endless.

 

And warm. So warm.

 

It filled her, like golden light, her vision, and everything she knew.

 

She gasped, and coughed, spitting blood from her lungs like spittle, eyes wild. Her heart was pumping, fast, frantic, fighting, and then she registered it, finally, the set of strong, large, golden glowing hands at her stomach. Mamoru, in front of her, grunting, sweating, bringing her back from the brink of death.

 

She felt her insides ripping and readjusting and it _hurt_ , it hurt so bad, but then it healed.

 

“C’mon, Mina,” he said, “I still need that girl-bodyguard.”

 

He was trying to be funny, and it was so pathetic she could only roll her eyes, coughing as her insides burned and her hand, a bloody stump, fluttered in new skin that felt as if it were made out of razor blades.

 

But damn. She’d never been so glad to see him.

 

She turned in the dark puddle of her own blood, noticed Star Fighter and Star Healer behind, Mamoru’s escort, turned toward the center of this hell.

 

Infinity.

 

A bright pillar of purple energy broke through the building, piercing the murky sky so bright it hurt to look at it.

 

“C’mon,” Yaten said. “Time for some action.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry that this chapter took me a bit longer. But… I’ve had some things to think about how to address: 
> 
> Last week I've had a reader taking real offence over Taiki calling out the Nazis two chapters ago. Even called me a racist over that, quite ironically. Now... Seeing as I got very little initial reception on last chapter, I'm hoping I haven't offended even more of you, but either way, I’ve decided to talk about it.  
> So, a fair warning: This is gonna become a) personal and very emotional on my part, and b) political. I know we’re all here for fanfiction. So I absolutely get it if you wanna skip this part. To you guys: Thank you for reading, I hope you still like this fanfic, and I’ll see you next chapter.
> 
> For all those that wanna hear what I have to say: let me get one thing straight, first. I depict Chaos as personified HATE. Not violence – Violence, for the most part, is a reaction. Hate is a motivator. I’m going for HATE. And: I am a German with Jewish roots. All but two of my grandfather's many, many relatives were brutally murdered by Nazis. There is nothing in the world that will ever personify hate to me as much as Nazis do, wherever it is they currently prominently are in large gatherings. This isn't against any countries, this is against Nazis and Nazi mentality. If ANYONE is "festered by Chaos" in this world, to me it would be them, regardless of where they are -  
> Especially because they are popping up all over the world now, which makes me bloody emotional. And maybe you'll take note of the fact that I didn't specifically name a country, just the Nazis. And that had a very specific reason: Because I wanted this to be timeless, and to address any place in the world where this is (and can be) happening at this very moment in time, as well as in the future. And keep in mind I'm bloody GERMAN.   
> When I first drafted that scene, France was in the middle of possibly voting for a right-wing populist, nationalist party to represent their people. As I was finishing this scene, there were people in Charlottesville carrying torches and chanting words of hate that still ring in my ears and that reminded me eerily of the documentaries I’ve been shown all my life of the chanting people carrying burning sticks on November 9th, 1938. And when I posted it, my own country had allowed 94 of its 709 seats in parliament to go to a right nationalist political party that uses a language reminiscent of 1933. Wherever we look, xenophobia is spreading. Many, many governments in the world have turned a whole damn load more towards their right wings, some have allowed them to be in charge. And to me, any place in any time that allows hate to become vocal is a fucking problem. I’m absolutely aware that there are things in the world that are violent and hateful and despicable, and not only Nazis. There are people starving because the first world is exploiting them. There are places in the world that, not only but to some considerable extent due to that reason, are completely run by terror and criminality. But to me there is nothing in the world that represents the slow rot that hate can do to a people more than what happens when the privileged parts of the world start stirring fear and distrust and enviousness, once more, and dividing by race and nationalities again, because the powerful do not want to share, and the non-powerful do not know whom to blame but those less fortunate than them.   
> I’ve chosen to depict that mentality as the one I see as the purest form of hate. And as both a descendent of a survivor of the holocaust, AND a descendant of the very people that collectively allowed it to happen, I see myself not only allowed to point out the Nazis in ANY country, but I see it as my responsibility.   
> So, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you with my choice of example of hate in the world, but I also hope, if I HAVE offended you with it, that you may keep in mind that hate is not overcome by closing one’s eyes to it, or to point out places that express hate even more.
> 
> Anyway,I had to chew a little on that comment, and really didn’t feel in the mood for writing for a couple days, and that’s why this took a little longer.
> 
> That being said, thank YOU guys with your warm words and nice reviews, you are the people that keep me going, and without that wonderfully positive response by you, I might have just stopped posting, really… I do get insults here and there, and I’ve kinda gotten used to the fact that I kinda just have to endure that when I put something of mine out into the world to be consumed by others, and yes, they still do always sting, but this one made me SO SAD, so… I’m glad that I have you, guys, the ones with warm words and constructive criticism, and … well, yeah. Thank you. 
> 
> (And yes, I know, this cliffhanger is evil, but let me know what you think of this chapter, anyway?)


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, I cannot thank you guys enough for the encouragement since the last chapter. I was so, so sad, and you guys pulled me out. So, thank you, everyone who left me a line. It literally meant the world, and for me to keep writing!
> 
> And, as always, thanks to my number one cheerleader, UglyGreenJacket. We’re so close to the end of Yugen now, and I can’t imagine this story without you. Thank you for all your tireless, amazing help, love!
> 
> On we go, and I hope you guys mind all the action ;)

L

 

Hotaru didn’t believe in out-of-body experiences. Hotaru believed that death was all there was. And she had a close relationship with death, after all.

 

And yet, it felt like she was looking at herself from the outside. Hanging limp in that monstrous contraption, the slightly trembling hand that held the bejeweled sword against her throat.

 

Her father, pleading, desperate.

 

His words, slurring. She couldn’t do this. This would end it all. Hotaru was their only chance. That it had started, he couldn’t stop this, she would doom them all by doing this.

 

Saw him drop to his knees, and beg for her life.

 

She couldn’t feel, but the sight of his desperate, angry tears made her frantic.

 

Papa…

 

The Senshi’s words – and another, teal-haired one she hadn’t noticed until then. That this was no chance at all. That he was bringing Ruin to them. That _Sailor Saturn_ meant no chance at all. That he didn’t understand.

 

Sailor Saturn…

 

The name vibrated within her, even as she was slipping away. Stirred at her.

 

She didn’t feel it, at all. She only saw it, heard it, the awful, ghastly sound of metal severing flesh, as the blade cut through her throat.

 

And then a voice, in her head, in her mind. Hissing.

 

‘ _Mine_. _Finally_.’

 

Hotaru had always assumed she would recognize the feeling when she died. That it would be familiar. After all, it came at her touch. Yet… this pummeling into darkness as she slipped away, dropping back into her own body with a shift, felt herself choke on her own blood as she drowned in the blackness, further, further…

 

Dying wasn’t familiar at all.

 

And the voice in her mind grew louder as it choked her, and filled out every space her dying form left behind in herself.

 

With a crunching sound that vibrated through her being, Hotaru Tomoe was gone.

 

But her hair grew, and the wound in her throat closed up, as her bones lengthened and her breasts and hips filled out, and what used to be Hotaru’s body let out a high-pitched shriek, in a frequency so loud and powerful the glass dome behind her broke, shattering in tiny, deadly, pieces that flew through the room, and the Senshi who had killed Hotaru was flung away.

 

From the dome, the thick purple substance poured, into every nook and cranny. It was moments before the walls started shaking, and deep rifts appeared in the cement above their heads, rubble falling.

 

She ripped her limbs from the machine and stepped out even as the vile, traitorous body of Germatoid howled in anguish, calling the name of her wretched human shell.

 

He was right, of course, though. This little, paranoid human. Pharaoh 90 would not bring them a new world.

 

He would destroy. Like he should. No world should get to live if Tau Ceti didn’t.

 

And she, Mistress 9, would do her part, chosen to rule hell at Pharaoh 90’s side, killing every last, little vermin in the universe, starting with Earth.

 

She moved her primitive, repulsive limbs. Too slow, unmoving, graceless, this body.

 

But it needed to do. With her power, it at least wasn’t as completely useless as her weak, pathetic shell used to be, left to her own devices.

 

The Senshi that had freed her got up to attack.

 

Mistress 9 tutted softly, barely audible, in a sneer that was sensual, enjoying what was about to come.

 

Her hair shot out, black and shimmering purple like the substance that was made from her people’s DNA. And trapped the Senshi and her partner by the throats. Like stone, hanging in the air.

 

They deserved a slow death. She tightened her hold, and let them hang. Amused by the way they tried to support their throats by clutching at her unyielding hair with their hands, trying to pull themselves up.

 

Only minutes and their strength would leave them, and they would hang. Among the slowest of deaths.

 

She contemplated whether she should cut them just like they had done to her, while the sickening old man still howled at her, trying to come at her, calling for his daughter.

 

It was annoying, to say the least.

 

She lifted up her hand, let out a blast. The cracking noises the man’s back made when they hit the rubble was satisfying, even when he continued begging.

 

“ _STAR GENTLE UTERUS_!”

 

The ridiculous attack barely graced her, as she sidestepped it. Faster with her strength than this body had ever known itself to be before, and she laughed, as her eyes found the Senshi responsible. Brunette, clad in leather. Eyes condescending.

 

 _‘Oh, I will wipe that look off your face, little Senshi’_ , she thought, as another strand of hair shot out toward her next target, sharp like a knife.

 

L

 

Usagi gurgled pitifully in her chokehold, as a force that was stronger than what she’d ever known pressed on her, yanked her up, in one single swipe, up, up into the air, high over the rooftop of the conbini where Galaxia had brought her, the conbini she had sat in front of, before this had all started.

 

Galaxia wanted her to _see_.

 

Usagi trembled, every cell in her trembled, but it didn’t show. She was petrified, paralyzed, immovable, couldn’t even blink.

 

She couldn’t look away from what was the destruction of her home. She couldn’t see how far it went on – to her it was everywhere. The sound of screams reaching her ears, the sight of the goo breaking everything apart. Clouds of dust and ash as buildings collapsed under the acidic attack, burying screams.

 

She couldn’t look away.

 

The tears that ran down her face felt hotter than she remembered the acid to be.

 

She gurgled again, trying to talk.

 

Galaxia snapped her fingers and Usagi could, again, drawing an agonized, deep breath into her lungs.

 

Galaxia seemed to like to hear her beg.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Usagi cried, again. She’d been begging for this world. It seemed the last thing she could do.

 

“There’s good, here. I – I promise… I will do everything. The Senshi are good, we will make sure there’s more …good. Please…Just—“

 

Galaxia shook her head sharply, and the air in Usagi’s lungs constricted again.

 

Not what Galaxia wanted to hear.

 

But she didn’t say anything. She hadn’t said anything for a while. Had just made her watch.

 

Air was flowing back into her lungs and Usagi could talk once more. It was her only weapon left, and she used it.

 

“Ar- Aren’t you here for star seeds?” she yelped. “Take me. Take mine. I’ll give it up freely, just take it and leave this world. You don’t need to destroy it. Please, please  stop this – let them go, _please_ —“

 

At this, Galaxia laughed.

 

It sounded sickly sweet, tinkling. Beautiful. Horrible.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Usagi whimpered, again, eyes stuck to the sight of a rooftop caving in onto a fleeing family, not far away.

 

Usagi would have jumped if she had been able, as Galaxia’s voice finally formed words again.

 

“Oh my naïve, little flower. Don’t you see?” she asked, her voice a melodic sing-song, before it turned stronger, cross. Like a teacher talking to a misbehaving child. “I’m not doing anything at all.”

 

Usagi drew a quick, confused breath. It hissed through her teeth.

 

“Take a good look,” Galaxia demanded.

 

“Everything you see… Destruction is the natural progression of things. I, as the Senshi of Destruction, am drawn to it, I can feel it my very soul, hear it call me. You managed this all on your own. I’m just here to watch its work unfold.”

 

“But—“ Usagi hiccupped. “The goo…”

 

“Created by a man driven to destroy. A human. Terrified,” Galaxia whispered, too close to Usagi’s ear.

 

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, her skin rippling in goosebumps, but she couldn’t move to shiver.

 

“Chaos is everywhere. It has tainted everything in this world. _Everything_ ,” Galaxia hissed into her ear.

 

 “No—“ Usagi whimpered, but Galaxia continued talking, ignoring her.

 

“Once Chaos is there, the process is started. The universe needs to be rid of this world, don’t you see? And most worlds, just like yours, don’t even need any push by me. It’s the only way Chaos will be gone. If we destroy everything it’s touched.”

 

“But Kinmoku…” Usagi choked. “They were good…”

 

“They lasted long, yes, longer than any world I’ve seen, but in the end… even they let Chaos fester in their world. Even they let it in.”

 

Usagi’s voice broke as she tried, so hard, to reason.

 

“Chaos can be contained. I know we can do this… if you’d just _trust_. In the Senshi—“

 

Galaxia’s voice was loud, so loud, as she laughed, again, right into Usagi’s ear.

 

This time it wasn’t beautiful. Not at all.

 

“Your Senshi this, your Senshi that…” Galaxia scoffed.

 

“Let me show you something about your _good_ Senshi,” she said, and waved her hand.

 

Images appeared, like a hologram. Slightly transparent, but Usagi’s breath hitched, once she focused on what Galaxia showed her.

 

It was Minako.

 

Minako, eyes filled with hate, protecting Ami by brutally pushing Sailor Aluminum Siren’s hands into the goo, holding her in place, deaf to the begging, until she evaporated… Then, Minako turning around, screaming as she ran for Lead Crow, hacking off her enemy’s hands with a look in her eyes that was feral, loathing, victorious.

 

Bleeding. Collapsing.

 

 _No_.

 

Usagi wanted to yell, but Galaxia once again had rendered her mute, as the images changed, and she now saw Taiki, running, scared…after Chibi-Kiju.

 

 _No_ , she thought. Please. Her heart clenching at the terror she felt, seeing Chibi-Kiju dodge the goo.

 

Taiki was as frantic as she would be, as he ran, mindlessly, through the panicked crowds. Shoving, to get through. Shoving...

 

One by one, pushing people, by accident, but not looking back, into the goo. They screamed in terror, until they didn’t scream anymore.

 

Usagi gurgled, in lieu of a whimper.

 

Another flick of Galaxia’s fingers, and what Usagi saw, then, made her scream, her throat turning raw.

 

Haruka’s eyes scrunched shut, as her sword’s blade sliced, cleanly, along Hotaru’s milky, pale, skin.

 

She’d been unconscious. Hotaru hadn’t even known what was happening.

 

“ _NOOOOOOOO_!” Usagi screamed, her voice breaking, aching.

 

“Do you still think they are good, little flower?” Galaxia whispered to her. It was harsh, demanding, urgent. “Do you?”

 

 Usagi’s voice trembled as she let out a wail.

 

This was too much. They were good, she knew it, they were. And yet… this was not what she would have done. This was not how she would have acted. But… was she maybe the one who drove them to this? Because she didn’t act… they had to?

 

It was confusing, so confusing, and she wanted to scream and clutch her head. They were good. She knew they only acted to _protect_ , against _all_ odds… no matter the cost…

 

Galaxia’s force let go of her. She crumbled to the the top of the roof, tumbling ten, fifteen meters low, and landed with a cry on her shoulder. She howled when she felt the bone crack upon impact.

 

Yet, she stretched her limbs, trying to get up, on all fours.

 

Galaxia touched the cement of the rooftop gracefully. Hovering down to it, like stepping off an invisible platform to land on solid ground.

 

“Do you?” she repeated. Softly, this time. Almost concerned.

 

One by one, like TV screens flickering on, Usagi was surrounded by Galaxia’s holograms.

 

Wherever she turned her head, she saw Hotaru’s convulsing form, gasping, shaking… dying.

 

Usagi whimpered, desperate. _No_. They had _promised_ …

 

And then… growing. The hate spreading until…

 

Michiru, Haruka, Taiki, gasping for breath as they tried not to die, hanging limp from the air.

 

Usagi cried out, panicked, confused, and this time she could shield her eyes, look away, and she did, her hands clawing at her face, the tears overflowing.

 

They were _good_ … weren’t they?

 

…And they were dying.

 

Usagi’s eyes hardened. She had to protect them. She wouldn’t lose a single one of them. No more.  Not to this goo, not to Galaxia, and not to each other.

 

It was hard, getting up. Much harder to reach for her brooch, transform, when Galaxia’s concern turned into rage, and she pushed that force of energy against her.

 

Usagi, now Sailor Moon, could withstand it for a second, maybe, two, until she was trapped again.

 

“You protect them, still? Seeing what they are capable of? Don’t you understand?” Galaxia growled.

 

Usagi gasped. Galaxia allowed her to talk.

 

But what could she say? What could she…

 

“They’re not perfect, yes,” Usagi gasped. “I’m not either. _None_ of us are… but that’s what it means to be human. We have a _choice_ , we can—“

 

And then her words choked as she once again was completely paralyzed, lips, tongue, throat. The sound died, as she was left to only stare straight at Galaxia.

 

“You chose wrong,” she said, darkly.

 

L

 

“This is it,” Ami said, voice stretched, out of breath, exhausted, over Athena’s artificial voice, repeating coordinates.

 

They stood right front of Infinity, even though they could barely see it. As if it were covered in fog.  One side of the tall building was completely collapsed, long, thick rivulets of goo pouring out, incessantly, the air full of thick, black dust from the falling rubble, like clouds of dirt, puffy and toxic.

 

Of course it had been this place. Of course.

 

Ami blamed herself. If she’d destroyed it all, when she still had the time. Killed Tomoe… maybe.

 

But she hadn’t been able to. It hadn’t been _right_ …

 

Was this whole world doomed now, because she hadn’t had the guts to kill a man before she was certain of his guilt?

 

“C’mon,” Yaten’s gruff, prickly voice pulled Ami from her somber thoughts, as he started walking toward it, limping.

 

They’d barely made it here, all of them somehow intact, through the thick, endless goo. Mamoru was completely exhausted, barely able to stand, from all the healing he’d needed to do already. Minako’s hand looked still raw, but at least it was back. The hole in Yaten’s knee completely healed. Seiya’s back was scabbed over, from where Mamoru, at the fifth turn, had only been able to take the sting off, but not the wound away, anymore, without passing out.

 

And they hadn’t even reached the main hub,yet. They hadn’t reached the real deal.

 

Ami inhaled sharply.

 

If only she knew Usagi was safe. Where she was. Was she in there? What if – _No_!

 

As if he’d read her mind – or, now that she thought about it, her emotions yelled louder, than her mind, right now, she felt Mamoru’s hand on her shoulder. The uninjured one.

 

He threw her a lingering look, and she felt it, the slight manipulation of her feelings. Taking the edges off her panic attack.

 

She nodded. Exhaled. No time to panic. They were Senshi.

 

She took a step, towards the building. Threw Minako a look, who nodded back at her, with a cocky smile that was for show, but still…

 

She envied Minako, sometimes. How unafraid, how determined. How strong she was.

 

And then the Earth shook, and Ami’s panic mounted to a crescendo.

 

A pillar of hot pink energy exploded from within the building. Erasing it from existence.

 

When the energy flickered away, where the tall building of her school used to be, was only a crater. In it, a broken dome, in which the remnants of the hot pink energy fluttered, concentrated, crackling like a burning fire. A woman, crazed, strong, working levers.

 

Seiya cried out Taiki’s name, Minako drew her sword, sprinting towards the stone. Or was it… hair?

 

Her eyes roamed, just as Mamoru started running. Searching. Both of them.

 

Usagi was nowhere to be seen.

 

But her eyes landed on someone, nonetheless.

 

Her eyes found Tomoe’s crumbled form in the back of the crater, where remnants of a wall buried half of his form.

 

And then, her eyes hardened.

 

 _He_ … this was all _his_ fault.

 

She barely heard Mamoru’s yell. “Watch out!” as he pushed her out of the way, as the hair flew toward her, like missiles.

 

And then, Tomoe’s voice.

 

“No, Hotaru, _please_ …”

 

It felt to Ami as if her heart had stopped. As if everything suddenly was in slow motion, as her eyes whipped back to the woman.

 

It couldn’t be…? _No_. Oh _god_ , please no.

 

Dark, beautiful eyes. The set of her jaw, the color of this abominable hair, the curve of her neck, the milky, pale skin…

 

“Hotaru-chan,” Ami whispered, horrified.

 

L

 

Usagi was up in the air, watching. Closer, now. The holograms still showed her friends, showed what used to be Hotaru, but she couldn’t do anything, she couldn’t protect them.

 

“You’re a Senshi, too, right?” Usagi whimpered.

 

Galaxia was right behind her.

 

“You can stop this,” Usagi begged. “You’re so strong. Together, we can stop this. If you’d just believe… It doesn’t have to be like this.”

 

The tears flowed freely, but she didn’t feel them, of course.

 

“No one has to die,” Usagi whispered brokenly.

 

Galaxia laughed.

 

“Everybody always dies. Everything rots and falls apart. It’s a circle of destruction. Destruction always wins, in the end. I have seen it, little one. There is no purity. There is no good,” she spat, like venom.

 

“Of course there is!” Usagi cried, hiccupped.

 

Usagi was desperate, frightened. But she knew, this was her only chance. She _had_ to get through, and so it all just tumbled out, every thought.

 

“Yes, yes there’s bad,” Usagi cried, harried, high-pitched. “But the bad doesn’t negate the good! The bad doesn’t need to win. Good can exist _IN SPITE_ of badness. People do good things, and they do bad things. And people who do a lot of bad, can also do good – and people who do a lot of good, can also do bad…”

 

She heard Galaxia sigh exasperatedly. Like Shingo did sometimes, when he was trying to explain something to her about the computer, and she didn’t get it. Or Miss Haruna, when she hadn’t done her homework, again.

 

But she didn’t slow, kept on talking.

 

“Someone who murdered another person can care lovingly for their mothers. Someone who protects all the animals in the world can still be a bully.  Someone who protects the world can still feel hate. One doesn’t outshine the other, make the other unimportant. Each just _IS._ Both are there, independent of the other,” she said quickly, reverently. “But _together_ , together we can work towards the good outnumbering the bad. It can be done. I know it can. There is so much good in the world… So much, if you’d just _LOOK_ at it…”

 

Galaxia’s voice was stern. Irritated.

 

“Sitting back and just hoping for things to get better, just hoping for the good in the world, doesn’t stop Chaos, Sailor Moon,” she said loudly, authoritatively.

 

“Chaos has _long festered_ in this world,” she boomed. “ _You_ have allowed it to fester. Rotting hearts with hate and fear. Making this world vulnerable, allowing Chaos to manifest. It’s strong, so strong. You see it with your own eyes, see how I don’t have to help it along.  You’re telling me the good can outshine the bad, but… you _see_ _this_. I am making _sure_ that you see this. All of it.”

 

Usagi’s breath hitched, as the holograms changed, again.

 

One by one, in quick succession, they showed hate. Every manifestation of hate. Murder, rape, exploitation, propaganda. Hate. Pure hate. In every form. The big, the small, everywhere. She saw men hitting women with hate in their eyes, she saw people gunned down over money, she saw people dying because politicians thought it unimportant to help the poor. She saw people dying in overfilled boats on the seas, and old men in important seats fighting to not help them, to not let them in. She saw machines drill into the earth, she saw people spitting venomous words to rid the world of other people. Every ugly thing in the world flashed before her eyes.

 

“You do it all yourself,” Galaxia said, softly, right by her ear. “Destruction is an inevitable process. In the end you all destroy yourself. I’m just here to watch its work unfold, and make sure it doesn’t miss a spot.”

 

Usagi closed her eyes against the bile in her throat.

 

“Just hoping for the good in the world _doesn’t defeat Chaos, Sailor Moon_ ,” Galaxia repeated, hissing, directly into her ear.

 

Usagi swallowed. Opened her eyes, again.

 

“Of course it does!” she cried, again.

 

Galaxia growled.

 

“You don’t get it, Sailor Moon. You naïve, little girl. What do you know of Chaos?” she bit, spiteful. “It has barely touched you! But _I_ … I carry it. I know what it’s like. It’s stronger than your hope, _so much stronger_.”

 

Her voice was cutting, resentful. Frustrated. She felt it vibrating off of Galaxia.

 

Usagi’s lips trembled.

 

“You do this, because you wanna stop Chaos too, right?” Usagi whispered. “You want to protect the galaxy, all of it, because you love it, just like I do. You just… you’re doing it _wrong_. Please, you need to _listen to me_ —“

 

Usagi cried out in pain, when she felt Galaxia’s shock of energy vibrate through her body.

 

L

 

“Hotaru, _NO_!!” Germatoid’s rodent body yelled. “You’re leading Pharaoh 90 right here!”

 

Mistress 9 pulled another lever. Once again, the sky flashed bright pink, leading the way. She rolled her eyes. Witless, little maggot. What did he think she was doing? Of course she was!

 

She scoffed. “Thanks to you I am, yes. Thanks to your careful preparation,” she winked.

 

He choked. Babbled. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to fight Chaos. Kill it.

 

She rolled her eyes again.

 

 

But she cried out, suddenly, when her hair was cut.

 

Who dared…

 

Another blonde ant with a sword, freeing her ant-friends.

 

She growled, set the levers on full. The energy pulsated in the air, and with a satisfied pull in her core she felt it, felt him coming.

 

Pharaoh 90 was on his way. Only moments.

 

“HOTARU-CHAN!”

 

A new voice. Crying. Familiar.

 

Her eyes whipped sideways, out of the rubble.

 

She knew this person. No… Hotaru knew this person. The timid, disgustingly frail friend Hotaru had had.

 

She glared, sent out a blast.

 

Sadly, it didn’t hit the Senshi, but a man in a black cape and ridiculous get-up.

 

He howled when he hit the rubble, and she pushed on, intensifying her attack. She smirked when she smelled scored flesh and blood.

 

Several yelled, obnoxious attacks were directed at her in answer, from all sides but the battered man’s. One more ridiculous than the other, and in a flash she retracted all her hair, surrounding herself in it, like a cocoon that solidified into stone, protecting her.

 

None came through, obviously.

 

She giggled, self-satisfied, when she loosened her wall of hair.

 

Behind them, the energy pulse darkened, crackled.

 

Pharaoh 90. Finally here.

 

Blonde ant with a sword number one came back for a second helping, drawing her blade, still stained with Hotaru’s blood, with a grunt and a cry.

 

Mistress 9 rolled her eyes, about to flick her off, when, to her surprise, Hotaru’s father jumped in front of her. Shielding her.

 

What an idiot.

 

She snorted, just when the Senshi faltered.

 

She reached behind her, pulled the lever free.

 

With a pulse of dark, pure, unfiltered Chaos energy, they were all pushed back.

 

All but fragile, old Tomoe, of course. He did still carry Germatoid within him, filled with Chaos. He crumbled to his knees. Bleeding and frail.

 

She circled him, like a predator its prey. He trembled in fear, whimpering his daughter’s name.

 

What a pitiful sight.

 

“You know,” Mistress 9 said, voice low, seductive, as she ripped the rags from his chest and raked her nails across his chest, drawing blood, smirking as he howled in pain. “You were onto something there, _Papa_.”

 

She pushed at him, and he fell into the dirt, as she pulled the lever again – those pesky Senshi were trying to attack once more, but no, no. Not with her.

 

She had important things to do.

 

She pulled at the needled sockets, still connected to the dome. The ones Hotaru had been strapped in, to be merged with her and her Senshi.

 

Without a flinch, she dug the needle into her flesh, let its automatic hooks dig into her veins and sinews, the red blood this body was made of flowing freely down her arm.

 

“Hotaru—“ Tomoe whimpered, on the floor.

 

She kicked him, silencing him.

 

“Pharaoh 90 cannot become corporeal in this world. Not without a host,” Mistress 9 said. “But, I would be stupid to just give up this body, wouldn’t I? And if I used another, what reason would Pharaoh 90 have to keep me around? But _you_ ,” she said, pulling the lever again, kicking the Senshi back again.

 

“You gave me an idea, _Papa_ ,” she spat the word, once more, and leaned down low, bringing her bleeding arm up to stroke Souichi Tomoe’s trembling cheek, almost lovingly.

 

“A merge. Not a host. A merge. I will merge with Pharaoh, and I will rule over the darkness.”

 

Tomoe’s eyes widened, yelling, screaming, but without further ado, she pushed the button.

 

It hurt, the start of the energy flow, but she laughed at it.

 

L

 

“What is the way, then, Sailor Moon? Tell me, how do you plan to save this world?” Galaxia sneered. Sarcasm dripping from every word.

 

Usagi had trouble speaking. Galaxia’s jolts of energy felt as if they were electrocuting her.

 

“With love!” she cried out, with some trouble. “With hope!”

 

Galaxia laughed.

 

“You will never be able to protect anything if you’re not willing to fight. If you don’t have the guts to do what must be done, little, fragile flower,” she said, angry. Sadness laced through every bit of rage.

 

“You’re wrong!” Usagi whimpered.

 

Galaxia glared at her harshly. She flicked her wrist again, the jewels on her bracelets glinting.

 

With a jolt, Usagi was once again released from Galaxia’s hold, tumbling to the ground.

 

But she was so much farther up now…

 

Usagi scrunched her eyes shut, let her energy do what it was good at.

 

The crescent moon on her forehead flashed, lighting, pushing out a forceful pulse of energy that cushioned her fall, but left her weak, breathless, trembling.

 

She still fell, softly now, but the impact was enough to rustle her broken shoulder and make her cry out in agony.

 

Galaxia landed gracefully, once more. Like walking on air.

 

“Let’s see it,” Galaxia hissed, low and guttural, daring her. “Let’s see what you assume to be able to pull off at this point anymore.”

 

And with a snap of Galaxia’s fingers, the air around them wobbled, wafted, disintegrated.

 

Usagi felt dizzy, a pit opening in her stomach, pulling at her as she was pulled through a rift in dimensions, space, and the wobbling surroundings around her, the rooftop, the clouds of smoke and gas and dust and dirt, turned into rubble, a bright, hot pink dome, darkening further and further,  licking into the air like flames, and…

 

She gasped. She was there. She was here, with Galaxia behind her.

 

Galaxia had brought her here.

 

She didn’t have to look where Mamoru was, she felt him, her eyes flew to his and widened, even as Seiya and Minako called her name.

 

Mamoru was in the corner, broken, crumbled, his eyes trying to stay awake. A huge gash in his side, glowing golden, his temple bleeding.

 

Usagi gagged.

 

“Hotaru, please, you were meant to fight Chaos. You cannot do this. Please, I know you’re in there,”

 

It was Professor Tomoe. He was bleeding, his chest covered in blood, crouched by Hotaru’s feet, struggling to lift himself up.

 

Her eyes flew to the woman that used to be Hotaru.

 

“Hotaru,” Usagi cried, frantically. “Listen to your father. If you’re in there, please—“

 

Hotaru – or her body – looked at her, as if she was an irritating insect. A fly buzzing around her, annoying her. She reached behind herself, and with her arm, connected to the dome, pulsating, black energy, she pulled a lever.

 

A pulse of dark energy, agonizing, went through Usagi’s nerves and mind. She was catapulted back, flying across the open crater, past Galaxia, who was left standing, untouched by the energy, with her arms crossed, to the far side of the crater.

 

Usagi was pushed against the stony edges and howled in pain, as the pulse pushed her further, dimly realizing she wasn’t alone.

 

Her eyes fluttered open against the onslaught of energy, pulsing, barely endurable, and her eyes met Haruka’s.

 

Haruka didn’t scream. She just took the pain, and looked at her with defeated, apologetic eyes.

 

They didn’t have to talk for Usagi to understand her. Her eyes conveyed it all. I’m sorry. This is my fault. I thought I was doing what was needed to be done.

 

Usagi shook her head, sharply, reaching out even when she had to grit her teeth to even more it a mere inch.

 

And then she gasped, horrified, her eyes flowing back across the left side of the crater, where Mamoru was.

 

He hadn’t screamed, he hadn’t made a sound… none at all, and she was losing the flutter in her tummy that meant he was near, even when she could see him, lying, too still.

 

Her heart clenched in sudden, utter panic.

 

“HOTARU, STOP!” she heard Ami’s voice, somewhere.

 

With her voice, the pulse dropped, a little. Enough to stand, enough to move.

 

She ran for Mamoru, she knew it was wrong, she had to deal with what was happening up front, but she couldn’t help it, when she was plucked from the air by an invisible force.

 

Galaxia.

 

Usagi was back by her side, unmoving, paralyzed.

 

She tutted. “This isn’t what I brought you here for, Sailor Moon. I thought you wanted to save the world,” she hissed, challengingly. “Go on then, save it.”

 

Mistress 9 screamed, howling, agonized. And suddenly, everything was silent, and the beam of energy was drained from all blackness as it pooled, slowly, in Hotaru’s eyes.

 

Galaxia frowned.

 

“Hotaru!”

 

This time it was Tomoe’s voice, only a few paces in front of her. She felt Galaxia drop her and she fell to the ground, scrambling up just in time to see Tomoe throw himself against the cable, trying to rip it from Hotaru’s arm.

 

“ _Too late, vermin_ ,” Mistress 9 said. But it wasn’t Mistress 9’s voice anymore, not completely. And not Hotaru’s at all. It was doubled, like an echo, just that the second one was no voice at all, or maybe it was, but the low, hissing sound that Usagi knew only from her nightmares of a death on the moon.

 

It made a shiver run along her spine, and her eyes widen in terror.

 

No.

 

It was a moment. A single moment, in which Mistress 9, or what she was now, lift her father by the neck…

 

And twist.

 

“ _NO_!!” Usagi yelled.

 

Souchi Tomoe dropped like a lifeless sack, twisted and dead, at Mistress 9’s feet. She stepped on his body, without looking down, in her path towards Usagi.

 

No, not toward her…

 

Toward Galaxia.

 

“ _You_ ,” Mistress 9 hissed, in her terrifyingly doubled voice, stalking slowly.

 

And Usagi’s eyes widened when for the first time, she witnessed fear flicker across Galaxia’s eyes, and shimmer back, further across the crater, leaving Usagi standing there alone.

 

But suddenly, Mistress 9 cried out, and it was only her voice, the seductive, sultry purr she had had, without the darkness, clutching at her head.

 

“ _You_ ,” she exclaimed, again. But it was a different you, this time.

 

“ _Go. Away.”_ Her voice was panting, strangled, as she hit at her head.

 

And then a new voice that left Mistress 9’s voice. Higher. More melodic. Innocent.

 

“ _Papa_ …” it whimpered. Tears suddenly glistened on Mistress 9’s face, before it twisted back into its ugly mask.

 

“GO AWAY!” Mistress 9 boomed, once again doubled with the dark inflection of Pharaoh 90.

 

“NEVER!” the smaller, melodic voice yelled in answer.

 

Usagi’s insides felt as if she had pummeled into an abyss.

 

Hotaru?

 

And suddenly, all hell broke loose, as Galaxia howled in rage, and a symbol, purple, appeared on Hotaru’s forehead.

 

Michiru tackled Usagi to the ground, while Haruka charged, screaming, with her sword.

 

“ _NO_!” Usagi cried, horrified.

 

 “We can’t let her wake,” Michiru screamed in her ear, keeping her down. “We can’t! If Saturn wakes it will all be over. Her awakening brings the apocalypse!”

 

A jolt went through her, lifting her, and Michiru as well. Through all of the Senshi, Usagi realized with a start. Pulling Haruka away, paralyzing her, even as Mistress 9 was battling, screaming, against herself.

 

A jolt Usagi was familiar with by now.

 

Usagi started crying.

 

“I’m finished with this,” Galaxia announced. “Show’s over,” she said, and lifted her bracelets.

 

Usagi closed her eyes, bracing against what she knew what was to come.

 

Just that it never came…

 

And she dropped back down to the Earth, hitting her injured shoulder with a stab of blinding pain.

 

Right in front of her was Mamoru, panting, crouched, grunting in pain, holding out his hand.

 

And Galaxia…

 

She was dropping to her knees, trying to fight it, as she looked at Mamoru, utterly confused, utterly surprised and then… Her eyes drooped, slowly, as she crumbled to the ground…

 

Asleep…

 

Usagi blinked, too confused to… but then she felt into him, on instinct, felt him use his power, direct it.

 

Dream. Life and Dream. Those were his powers. The golden crystal’s power.

 

He whimpered in pain, sweating, holding on by a thread with his hand still extended out, pulling Galaxia down, under, while behind them, Mistress 9’s forehead exploded in a flash of purple color, and Michiru started crying.

 

L

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I know, I know, again with the cliffhanger. But c’mon, I had to be true to the source material, here. Saturn awakening has a cliffhanger in EVERY version of this story xD
> 
> Only two to go!!! (And an epilogue)  
> Pleeeeease, let me know what you think, so close to the end?  
> I’ll be back soon with the rest! (aka the end)


	30. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo… This chapter was INSANELY hard to write for me. It was the same with Ikigai, tbh: The next to last chapters are the hardest to write for me in general, it seems. Wrapping it all up, leading up to the final bang. 
> 
> So, I STRUGGLED. But it’s here, now. It’s pretty much all action, of course, we’re in the final fight. I nicknamed this chapter ‘Death vs. Destruction x Chaos2’, you’ll see why. So, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if you’re not the biggest fan of action scenes. I promise I tried to pull all the registers, anyway, and have it all go out with major badass alert ;)

 

 

Usagi held her breath, her arms stretched out wide, as she shielded Mistress 9, no, _Hotaru_ , her body convulsing behind Usagi in the rubble, even when she was so acutely aware of Mamoru’s struggle to keep Galaxia under, only barely.

 

Galaxia was much too strong.  And the light emitting from Hotaru was getting brighter, and brighter. She could see it even when she had her back turned to the writhing woman that used to be Hotaru.

 

They had seconds, she knew this.

 

But she couldn’t, she _couldn’t_ let them kill her.

 

There _had_ to be another way.

 

Haruka drew her sword, ready to bodily fight Usagi out of her way, though never to really harm her, she knew that. Still… the look in Haruka’s eyes was crazed, scared, her whole stance pumped with adrenaline.

 

She was fighting for what she thought was right, and so was Usagi.  The crescent moon on her forehead flashed, as she broadened her stance, clenching her teeth.

 

“Koneko,” Haruka bit fiercely, yet it was begging. “She’s awakening. As long as she stays human we said. We _agreed_ —“

 

“ NEVER!” Usagi yelled, frantic. “I’ll _NEVER_ let you kill her. I lost Rei and Mako hours ago. Pluto! I will not let a single person more die!” she yelled, at the same time that Michiru was trying to argue, reason, held back by Minako, and Haruka was already yelling back, over her—

 

“EITHER SHE DIES OR THIS WORLD DIES!”

 

“Sailor Moon! You _know_ the prophecy! You _have_ to let us—”

 

“NO! NO!” Usagi cried.

 

It was Ami’s voice who joined the chorus of shouts, raising it loudly over the cacophony of theirs, quoting the prophecy.

 

“’When Saturn wakes, the end of the world wakes with her!’” she yelled, quieting them, as they looked at her startled.

 

It would have been quiet, were the world not screaming, the flash of Hotaru’s energy piercing through the world.

 

A few seconds. At most.

 

“What if it’s not this world? A world that’s already destroyed?” Ami said.

 

And the voices yelled together again, all of them, huddled, only a moment, she couldn’t follow. They needed to go outside the solar system. They didn’t want to know what would happen to Earth’s future if a planet went boom in Earth’s vicinity. They needed to go farther. They could only teleport to where one of them had been before.

 

It was Yaten, then, who spoke. Broken and injured, quiet, into all of these arguments, simultaneously.

 

“Kinmoku,” he said, and eyes whipped to his.

 

There was no time to decide, just to agree, as Yaten grabbed Minako’s hand, and Michiru grabbed Ami’s hand, and Taiki grabbed onto Hotaru’s distorted, unconscious, convulsing, glowing form, the tips of her hair and her feet already disintegrating. They formed a circle, as if on instinct, starting to glow, around what was this strange, strong hub of power.

 

Haruka grabbed her hand, and with horror she realized that Mamoru wasn’t in the circle, that Mamoru would be left behind, giving them time to flee, keeping Galaxia asleep with clenched teeth, agonized grunts and sweat forming on his forehead.

 

“No!” she cried, trying to rip free, but both Haruka and Minako yanked at her from either side, with all their physical strength, ripping at her arms and shoulders, keeping her in place, and she felt Seiya’s eyes on her and then turn hard, when Seiya yanked free in Usagi’s place, and, in the last beat of a second before it started, pulled Mamoru into the circle by his shoulder.

 

Two things happened at once.

 

She felt that pull that she was dimly aware of having felt before in another lifetime. Just stronger, heavier. Like something tried to rip from the inside out, and at the same time pushed into her, crushing her with the weight and pressure of a magnitude she couldn’t fathom, her head feeling as if it would cave, as if her bones were grinding together to shrink and crumble under her. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t be, as she was catapulted through a rift, a ripple in time and space that would bring them across the galaxy, even when it felt like stepping through a gap in the fabric of the air, right where they stood on Earth.

 

And Galaxia woke up. Shouting incomprehensibly, glaring right at Usagi just before the world changed around her.

 

L

 

It felt like falling and being crushed at the same time, the unique plummet in his stomach, when the air was pressed out, and the muscles in the back pushed against the organs inside due to the acceleration of his body – when really, he understood enough about Sailor Teleport that he knew they hadn’t moved at all, they had parted a rift in the universe around them; they hadn’t moved, they’d punched a hole – well, the Senshi did, anyway. Mamoru was just along for the ride.

 

And even when he knew this nausea that he immediately felt didn’t come from movement, it racked his body wholly, the vacuum pressing in on him, trapping him inside himself.

 

And so did the lack of air in this new atmosphere, or lack thereof.

 

As a reflex he tried to gulp in air, even as his skin was already starting to swell. His eyes widened as he felt the pressure in his lungs, the collapse. He knew enough of this to know what happens to a human body in the vacuum of space. Ebullism. Radiation. How every gas in him would start to bubble and expand, high energy photons that would mutate his very DNA, the slow freezing. A minute before he would die, way before all this. Tried to breathe out before his lungs collapsed, ruptured under the remaining air in his body, even when panicked eyes flew to Usagi.

 

She was gagging, as she was dragged away, forcefully, by Uranus – away from Hotaru. Gagging, but breathing, her lungs moving.

 

A second more and Ami’s hands were on his face, shaking it up. Her eyes were closed and her lips moved but he couldn’t hear, her hands gliding over his face like a small dance.

 

And with a jolt he drew in a sharp breath. Breathing air that wasn’t there.

 

Senshi magic.

 

She yanked at him. He was too slow, too fatigued, and she grunted, as she supported him under his shoulders, trying to lift him, until Taiki was there, lifting him instead, running with him, fast.

 

Fast, they needed to be fast.

 

He looked back over Taiki’s shoulder. Hotaru’s body let out a silent scream, and then it was …gone. Eradicated from existence, only the symbol of Saturn remained where Mistress 9 had been.

 

Usagi’s piercing jolt of absolute terror hit his senses at the exact same time that a pillar of purple energy – ten, twenty times the size of the energy burst from the dome at Infinity had been –

 buried the symbol in itself, as it flashed into the ground, and into space. It hit the surface like a spear stuck into a giant grape; the ground gave way immediately, wobbling, splashing open into a deep crater, a deep, oozing wound in the dead, grey, dusty soil.

 

It started moving immediately, this pillar of energy. Like a hurricane, covering the dead, ashen ground in purple fog and lightening, lifting up ash and death and metal and stone, everything it encountered in its wake, growing bigger, and bigger. It was absolutely soundless. No sound could carry where no atmosphere was.

 

_When Saturn wakes, the end of the world wakes with her._

It was almost beautiful, this deadly, silent, purple hurricane, in this soundless, grey graveyard.

 

He was jostled as Taiki ran with him, dove after the others into a cave like structure – or was it a collapsed building? A former basement? Seiya and Yaten led the way, they knew their way around these ruins.

 

Taiki let go of him, pushed him down to crawl into the gap, and Mamoru’s stomach plummeted when he dug his fingers into the soil.

 

He didn’t feel anything from it. The earth didn’t speak to him, here. He didn’t know if this was because he wasn’t home. Or if it was because this planet was a corpse.

 

A giant chunk of wall came down around them when someone moved a wrong piece of rubble to steady themselves, he didn’t know who. He tried to scream, to warn, when he saw that – and he did scream, his throat raw, but no sound emitted. They would have almost missed it, it would have buried them, completely soundless as it fell, weren’t it for a pulse of energy that Michiru created, shaking them to attention.

 

And then he looked back at the noiseless hurricane, as it spread, crushing towards them, and emitted a red gas, like flames, that spread in lighting speed across the horizon and toward them, blocking all light.

 

He dove forward, blindly, instinctively finding Usagi who trembled from adrenaline, burying her beneath him as they all ducked, huddling, as the gas hit them, burning the roofs of their mouths as they breathed it in. Someone must have shouted an attack, because they were coated in a bubble of energy, momentarily, as the hurricane engulfed them, went over them.

 

When he looked back up he gasped, soundless. Kinmoku was burning in magical red flames, licking at the ash and ruins, utterly silent.

 

Exactly like his dream. A red hell. Silence had come.

 

Just not where he’d expected it.

 

There was no sound, but he had an advantage. Their emotions screamed, so did their bodies, and he could hear it all. Usagi’s determination and apprehension. Ami’s fierceness. And the Starlights… the horror they felt, the way this hurt them, here.

 

He couldn’t focus on this. There was no time. It screamed from their pores, they felt it. Galaxia was following. She’d be here, soon, coming for their star seeds. They were faster in numbers, but not by far.

 

And she wouldn’t ignore him this time, leave herself open. He wouldn’t get to pull _that_ stunt on her, ever again.

 

And then the hurricane broke into two, three, four pillars of destruction, separating, moving soundlessly across the horizon in different directions, leaving behind one purple pillar of energy.

 

They were far away, hiding, but close enough to just make her out, as the pillar exploded and someone rose from its tremors.

 

Usagi gripped his hand, tightly, and he clutched back. Like a lifeline.

 

Her heart flared up in hope, he felt it like a wall of light, even when he felt the absolute opposite at the sight before them. Terror. Fear. Apprehension. He clutched her hand tighter.

 

The Senshi of Ruin. The soldier of Death.

 

There she was.

 

How ironic that she should look so angelic, so innocent, her face so serene, her very fuku sleeves a little like the petal of a white, pure flower.

 

She looked at them, when her feet touched the ground.

 

At Usagi.

 

He felt Haruka’s emotion flare, saw her grabbing Michiru’s head, cradling it against her chest, out of the corner of his eye as he gripped Usagi’s hand tighter, before Saturn, in one single movement, lowered her glaive.

 

He felt his heartbeat. Thumping, faster, gripping at Usagi in fear as he scrunched his eyes shut.

 

Waiting.

 

But Death didn’t come, instead something happened that hurt his ears.

 

Sound.

 

His eyes flew open and he gasped. Bewildered when he heard his own breath exhale, his eyes flying to Usagi’s.

 

From where Sailor Saturn stood, a new pulse of energy emitted. Purple, too, but warm.

 

“Mamo-chan!” she said, wide-eyed. It sounded faint, so faint, as if she’d whispered it from miles away, but he could hear. And Taiki’s laugh, so quiet, broken up, not all the frequencies carrying yet, and almost hysterical.

 

Atmosphere…

 

And beside them, the ash rustled in what felt like wind, and his stomach flared when he noticed…

 

He let himself drop to the ground, the soil. Feeling.

 

It was different. The planet didn’t communicate with him, not like Earth did.

 

But it was waking. As if reborn.

 

And then another sound hit his ears. It made Usagi shrink back in fear.

 

“Oh, did you think you can run?” Galaxia asked, hovering in the red sky above them.

 

 

L

 

Sailor Saturn exhaled softly, when her feet touched the ground.

 

She stretched, filling this form.

 

It wasn’t uncomfortable. It had never been.

 

They were all there, of course. Hotaru’s memories. But so were all her other memories and lives through time. Not always Sailor Saturn, of course. Not always awake.

 

But always Death. Everywhere.

 

It overwhelmed Hotaru a little.

 

At any time, always there.

 

She remembered it all, was connected to Death itself. She was its master and heiress and harbinger, so new life could begin.

 

Anubis. Hades. Thanatos. Osiris. Valkyries. Mania. Hei. Mictecacihuatl. The Morrigan. The Grim Reaper. Azrael. Shinigami.

 

A few of the names the Earth, her world, her place, had given her.

 

But it had been a long time since she’d been Sailor Saturn. Her true form.

 

She felt it, here, of course. This planet was dead. But not for long. This was her gift, too.

 

Death and Rebirth. Only what was dead could be reborn.

 

She flicked her eyes to the only life left in this already ruined place.

 

Met the eyes of her princess. She, too, Saturn hadn’t seen for a long time.

 

Sailor Saturn smiled, ever so softly.

 

And then, she did what she was destined to do.

 

She lowered her Silence Glaive, rejoicing in the fact, that where there was death, already, she could only ever bring life.

 

Before it had even touched the ground she felt Death’s fingers start to retreat. Felt the darkness leave.

 

Not completely, of course. She knew the darkness now resided in her chest.

 

She had been Death through all of time, but she had never felt hate living in this heart. Chaos.

 

But there it sat, just where Mistress 9 had put it. Growling. Enraptured by the sight of this dead planet, angered by the revival she was breathing into it.

 

It was strangely fitting, even when she loathed it being there. Felt that she could wield it, use it. She didn’t know why it didn’t taint her… but somehow she knew it was Hotaru.

 

Death had never been cruel. Never been a force of evil, only of order. Of balance. A natural force, necessary, neutral. She’d never taken, only received. But she’d never been so pure as when she’d been Hotaru.

 

And then there she was. The golden soldier.

 

Mistress 9 had only seen a glimpse of her, yet Chaos in her had recognized its twin.

 

And so had Sailor Saturn.

 

The Senshi of Destruction, Sailor Galaxia, and she, the Senshi of Death, Sailor Saturn. They were equals. Always had been. Two sides of the same coin, in a way.

 

And now they were equals, again, both carrying the seed of hate in them.

 

If she brought Death to both of them, herself _and_ Galaxia… then Chaos’ reign was over – not destroyed, for Chaos could not be destroyed, only fought – but back where it belonged. Small, timid, in the heart of every living thing. Kept in check.

 

Galaxia hovered in the red air. She felt the ripple of power from her, as she spoke to the Senshi, her back turned to Sailor Saturn.

 

What a reckless, silly mistake.

 

The Senshi screamed their attacks, almost all of them at once, but Galaxia flicked them off course with a wave of her hand, before swirling it, making the Senshi still as little statues.

 

Saturn breathed in again, calmly. Flexed her hand around her Glaive, and allowed Chaos to fill her with power, before she flew toward her target, her Glaive held like a spear.

 

Galaxia didn’t even notice her coming. At least at first, when she growled in surprise, shielded herself with her psychokinetic powers.

 

The Glaive cut through it easily and Galaxia’s eyes widened.

 

The Senshi collapsed on the ground, as she let go of them and flickered away, like the static on Hotaru’s father’s old television sets she flicked from existence, though only temporarily.

 

She didn’t growl, or show any frustration. These were feelings she didn’t have.

 

Instead she looked at the Senshi. Terrified, shocked. At Uranus, who had killed Hotaru.

 

Saturn smiled softly, when she spoke. “You did good,” she said, and Uranus’s eyes widened. “Let me handle it from here.”

 

And then Galaxia flicked back into view, above her, behind her, and she heard her princess scream, telling her to watch out, but she’d seen of course. Heard the Senshi’s attacks again, directed at Galaxia, who flicked them off once more, utterly annoyed, tutting.

 

Saturn spread her feet, widening her stance, held up her Glaive. Protective. Galaxia was obviously here to harm the Senshi, in a way. She could feel it. And Saturn knew her place, of course.

 

Protect the princess.

 

“You think you can fight me?” Galaxia laughed. But it was hollow, wavering.

 

She too, recognized her equal.

 

Saturn smiled.

 

It caused Galaxia to frown, lift both her hands.

 

With them, the rubble around them moved. Stones and ash and gravel, starting to swirl.

 

Saturn acted immediately, twirling her staff, fast, fast, fast, turning it into a turbine, even when she heard Uranus’s shout, summoning the winds for protection.

 

Together they succeeded, none of it hit. When the wind settled, they were surrounded, circular, by a wall of stones and small bricks, ash and dirt, mounted up.

 

The fog settled, and Saturn’s calm eyes met Galaxia’s. She was furious, agitated. Raised bigger stones, now.

 

Saturn jumped, twirling her staff again.

 

Get the fight away from the Senshi, who shouted incomprehensibly behind her.

 

The stones flew again, at the flick of Galaxia’s hand, but this time Saturn hit them straight on, and they were flung back, towards Galaxia.

 

Galaxia growled, shielded herself with her golden bracelets. The stones, turned into projectiles, missiles, ricocheted off them with loud, powerful sounds, like gunshots.

 

And instead off teleporting away, once more, she let them come.

 

After two, three near hits, all within the first moment, she had the hang of it, and Saturn’s eyes widened when she aimed them back at her, accelerated off her bracelets.

 

She dodged two, three, four, all shooting back within the second she had ever redirected them, and the fifth hit her. Cutting into her skin, into her flesh and out her back again, bloody, straight through.

 

She coughed, tasted iron in her mouth, tangy.

 

Her princess screamed.

 

She didn’t wince. Her eyes didn’t harden. Stayed neutral as she straightened up immediately, as if there wasn’t a bleeding hole in her.

 

Galaxia’s eyes turned feral, she flew to attack, when Saturn inhaled deeply. Summoning these powers of hate that she could now manipulate.

 

Saturn let out a scream, a powerful, high-pitched scream like a siren’s, and from her mouth twisted, rushed, dark, flaky, dusty energy. In streams it flew toward Galaxia, growing huge, like a shadow, taking form, as it poured, incessantly, from her mouth.

 

The shape it took, this pure form of chaotic energy, was still her in a way. Formed by her. Bigger than a city, looming, hooded and cloaked in black, sinewy hands, scythe in hand. Not a skeletal head beneath the hood, she knew, but canine.

 

It’s muzzle open, twisting further and further like a gaping hole, pushing her enemy, far, far, far up into space, far up from this meager film of a forming atmosphere, far from her princess, into silence, and it swallowed Galaxia in this pit of matte dust and shadow.

 

Saturn knew it wasn’t enough, of course, and before Galaxia exploded out of it, enraged, burning in dark flames, Saturn had already let the dark shadows envelop her, lift her up, bring her closer, higher, into space, toward Galaxia.

 

Galaxia – her equal in every way – let out a screech in return. But somehow, even when it formed into the shadow shape of a lioness, it’s roar drumming like the sound of fingernails on chalkboards, puffing out in darkness, tainting everything around it in blackness,… even then, Saturn felt Galaxia couldn’t control it as well. Like it directed her, like Chaos pulled her strings, and not the other way around.

 

It flew at her, of course, engulfing Saturn, pushing, agonizingly, through every pore of her body, piercing every cell… but it didn’t go back down. It was out to destroy Saturn, her opponent. It had no care for Galaxia’s directive.

 

Saturn howled again, pushing it out, even when Galaxia was rushing back down to the planet’s surface, toward her princess.

 

_Oh no, you don’t._

 

Saturn pulled at Chaos’s energy, directed it, formed it, like lasso around Galaxia and she was pulled back. Catapulted.

 

Saturn could see the fear in Galaxia. For her life. To lose.

 

And with a start Saturn realized, that maybe they weren’t completely equal, after all. That she had an advantage.

 

The Senshi of Death wasn’t afraid to die.

 

Saturn dove for her, her Silence Glaive raised, just like she had in her very first move. Galaxia waved her hands, but of course, in space, there was nothing she could manipulate as a weapon. So she shielded her face, and herself, once again, with her bracelets, when Saturn struck.

 

The curved blade was hit back with a clang, even when the hooked end of it burrowed itself into her arm, drawing blood. But like Saturn before, Galaxia didn’t even flinch, but shot white light from the bracelet.

 

A wall of Chaos surrounded Saturn like a cocoon, before it could do any harm, as Galaxia, once again, rushed to the surface.

 

Saturn flew after her immediately. Catching her at the fringes of the new atmosphere.

 

The tip of her scythe buried itself into Galaxia’s back, to the hilt.

 

Saturn exhaled, as Galaxia, impaled, started to sputter blood.

 

Safe…

 

… but then Galaxia started to laugh, giggle, darkly, and Saturn frowned. In between her hands, Galaxia had formed a ball of energy, shouted… _No_ … an attack.

 

She raised her hand up. As if she was stealing the light from the stars, flashes of light rushed from every corner of the galaxy, lighting up, forming, growing in her hand.

 

“It doesn’t matter if I can’t be around to see it,” Galaxia spluttered, coughing.. “I _will not_ let Chaos win. Chaos will die, and everything with it. You and me first.”

 

Saturn’s heart started thumping, wildly. In between her hands Galaxia had performed her ultimate attack.

 

No, she needed to get it away. Far away.

 

Galaxia still spiked on her Glaive, Saturn let Chaos’s energy engulf her once more, bring her up to the skies, lift her as fast as she could, Galaxia in tow.

 

Kinmoku was only a small marble anymore, when the stolen light pooled at the tip of galaxia’s hand, and broke free. Growing until it was only a wall, going on forever to her eyes, forever, forming a new sun, but growing, growing still, bigger than any sun had been before, at the speed of light, lighting up the galaxy, until Saturn couldn’t look anymore, until she felt burned and ripped apart even when bathed in Chaos, and then it imploded.

 

She didn’t feel it anymore, of course. When this new sun, only seconds old, collapsed into Galaxia’s ultimate attack.

 

A black hole, accelerated by Senshi magic.

 

Swallowing them both, like it would everything else in mere moments.

 

Everything.

 

L

 

Mamoru felt it, immediately. In Usagi. She’d screamed, and tossed in terror, seeing Galaxia and Saturn sucked into the black abyss above their heads. Growing, growing. Crackling. Growling.

 

She was trying to break free, and he’d held her back in their hide-out, but he’d felt it…She couldn’t. It tore too much at her, seeing this. She couldn’t sit still. But… what could she seriously, do, now?

 

This was the end, surely.

 

Ami kept talking, her visor in place, Taiki cutting in here and there. What Galaxia’s attack had created was a black hole, right above them, but more deadly than any natural one. That this black hole, if not stopped, would grow forever, until it had sucked in everything in this galaxy, maybe even the universe. It was unstoppable.

 

Usagi screamed. It hurt his ears. They need to do something. Maybe if they went inside.

 

Taiki screamed back, and then Ami. That it was suicide. The pressure and gravity of the black hole would kill her in seconds. There was nothing they could do.

 

This was it. Chaos had won. Everything would be destroyed. And, even though she died for it, Galaxia had won, too, then… with everything destroyed, Chaos would be no more, either, after all…

 

He clutched at her. He was sure the death grip he held her hand with must hurt her, and he _tried_ , he tried to loosen it… but… he clutched at her. Hard. Half to keep her back, half for support, because he needed it.

 

At least they were together when they died, he reckoned. At least that.

 

He gasped, when with a sudden jolt, the first of the three suns above the planet of Kinmoku started to be swallowed up, the sun flares caught in the black hole’s loop. Beautiful, in a way, how it lit up the sky. Like the swirl of ice cream mixing in a blender, slowly swirling, swirling.

 

And deadly. He felt the gravity change. Felt the pull already. They would be swallowed up in moments, just like this sun.

 

His lips started trembling, when Usagi let go of his hand.

 

“I’m going in,” she declared, her jaw set.

 

His stomach plummeted. _No_.

 

The thought was repeated, by the others. Over and over. “ _NO_!”

 

Minako yanked at her arm, as she stepped away from him, took a step forward, looking up.

 

He stumbled where he stood. The gravity from the black hole was getting too much, lifting them. The first sun nearly eaten up, the second sun’s redder light starting to swirl into the orbit of the black hole.

 

Usagi turned back to them.

 

“What difference does it make?” she said softly, cocking her head sideways. Her smile was gentle. So, so gentle.

 

“If I don't, we're all dead either way, right?”

 

The voices jumbled together again. One word on all their lips, with different arguments. _But_!

 

It was Michiru who screamed loudest. Surprisingly, or maybe not. “We'll come with you!” she yelled, Haruka stepping up behind her.

 

Mamoru whispered his own input before he even registered in his mind. “Me, too,” he said. It was automatic.

 

Usagi looked at them in horror. Michiru first, then him.

 

“No!” she yelped, and her crescent moon on her forehead flashed, dangerously, emitting a pulse that pushed them back, just a little.

 

Behind them, some of the rubble that had lifted up didn’t fall back to the ground, but started swirling up.

 

Her eyes widened, she apologized, but also begged.

 

She shook her head. That gentle smile again. Apologetic. Determined.

 

It scared him. So, so much.

 

She ran and someone stopped her. He didn’t have a mind left to realize who it was. He was rooted to the spot, in shock.

 

She broke free easily, but turned back.

 

“ I _can't_ lose you,” she screamed, to all of them, but looked at him. “I can’t _not_ try. Please. Let me do this. I'm meant to protect the world. The monarch of the moon has always been meant to watch over the world. Please…”

 

Minako was frantic. Hysterical. Shouted, that she was wrong. That they were meant to protect HER. That she couldn’t let this happen.

 

“Please,” Usagi repeated, her lower lip trembling.

 

“WE'RE meant to protect you,” Minako yelped.

 

He felt it in her, in Minako. The panic. Rivaling his own, maybe even greater. Ami had to hold her back. She was about to attack.

 

“Not from this,” Usagi whispered. “Not from my purpose. You were always meant to protect me so I can use the crystal when the time comes, when I need to protect the world with it.”

 

Minako screamed, and Usagi started crying.

 

His feet moved without his volition. Automatic, again, and it was hard to walk now. The pull from above was so strong, but he crushed her to him.

 

She cried harder, a big, powerful set of sobs, and then she stilled, rubbed her tears. Exhaled.

 

Her hair was flying up, as if she were hanging upside down.

 

“You’ll die,” he whispered.

 

“Maybe,” she said. “But I plan not to. I plan to save us all.”

 

She swallowed. This was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Deciding to trust her. Deciding to believe in her miracle, once again.

 

Letting her sacrifice herself. Choosing the world above all else, even him.

 

“It’s ok,” she whispered. Her hand lifted, cradled his cheek.  “It's what I'm supposed to do.”

 

He swallowed. His face was wet, he knew this. He heard the Senshi scream.

 

 _No_ , he thought, as she stepped away from him. Gave him that gentle smile, once more. It's not what you're supposed to do. It's what you choose to do, because you're the purest person in the world.

 

He watched her turn, put her hands on her chest, over her brooch. Watched it light up, and her eyes close.

 

People so often tended to ask each other that one question… What would you do when you knew the world would end tomorrow, today, in five minutes?

 

His answer would have always been… to hold her tight. To not let her go. Death was ok as long as he was with her, when the end came. Yet, now he did the very opposite.

 

Now, he let her go…

 

He swallowed, again, as her eyes opened, and she crouched to jump.

 

His heart sped up, frantic.

 

“ _WAIT_!” he yelled, panicked.

 

She turned. Reacted to the look in his eyes…

 

Her face twisted up, the sobs came...”No,” she cried, when he came up to her once more and her fists clawed at the rags that used to be his tuxedo. “Mamo-chan, I can't ... I can't… don't say goodbye _please_ , or I can't...”

 

He cradled her face, stroked her lip with his thumb. It was soft, trembling. Droplets of her tears hit his fingers.

 

“I'm _NOT_ saying goodbye,” he promised. His own voice trembling through the onslaught of tears.  “You're _coming back_ ,” he said, pressing, urgent, and let out a trembling breath. “I just...”

 

He slipped his fingers from her cheeks to the back of her head, pressed it to him as he kissed her.

 

Desperate. Salty from the tears, shaking with her sobs.

 

But he deepened the kiss, frantic. Concentrated as hard as he could, and poured it all in.

 

It only took a moment before it started, before he managed to put all his powers into this kiss, pour it all into her, a golden flow of energy.

 

She gasped, but he didn’t let go of her mouth, as he felt her grow stronger and himself weaker, felt the golden glow pass from him to her.

 

Only when he felt she had it all did he release her lips, stumbling. Weak.

 

Her eyes were wide as the gold engulfed her, flowed to her brooch, transformed it, and her.

 

A winged, crystal heart, engulfed and set in gold, and with a rip and a flutter a set of wings settled on her back, stretching her backwards, and her fuku changed. White and translucent, a touch of rainbow disappeared, leaving layers of gold, red, and black. Puffy pink sleeves, and an aura so powerful like never before. Eternal.

 

“Come back to me,” he whispered, voice breaking.

 

And she nodded, cradled his face wide-eyed... And he perceived it like slow motion when she turned, again, one final time, determined…

 

And jumped, wings spreading, as she was lifted up toward the black hole.

 

Minako started screaming, crying. Collapsing on the ground, beating it with her fists. Seiya howled, and so did Haruka.

 

And it felt as if time stopped, stretched, as he looked up to her ascend. As if she was falling, forever.

 

Until there was a flash of bright light, and everything disappeared.

 

L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ok, so first things first. I mean… Eternal Sailor Moon’s brooch, the Eternal Moon Article (what a silly name, btw) … IT’S GOLD YOU GUYS! I literally *had* to do this, lol. C’mon it even *looks already* like the Silver Crystal got a kiss of Golden Crystal, here. Right?
> 
> And then there’s the Saturn waking thing… It always bugged me in canon that they were all so panicked over Saturn’s AWAKENING, and then nothing happened when she did. Apocalypse came with her using her powers, lowering her Glaive, sure, but NOT upon awakening. That always felt wrong to me, like… you wanted to kill a CHILD when you could have just, I don’t know, tied a Senshi’s hands so she couldn’t use her bloody attack? (And yes, I know the discussions, that Saturn only would awake when the end was already near, kind of like an omen and unstoppable marking of the end… but… that too? Why keep SATURN from waking then, instead of, you know, stopping the thing that would cause her to pop up as a sign of the apocalypse, all four horsemen-like, in the first place? Just a thought? That’s to me like… killing the mortician instead of fighting the disease?) So, anyway, I changed that. Shit goes down because of Saturn’s AWAKENING. Big bloody toxic hurricanes that lay waste to the planet. The Silence Glaive is just the final touch.
> 
> Next (I know, these AN’s are getting out of hand, again, aren’t they?), a little hint on the symbolism and Galaxia’s and Saturn’s Chaos shadow monsters: Anubis, the Egyptian god of Death, had a canine head (plus, yeah, obviously the Grim Reaper outfit on that one, with the scythe), while most of the Egyptian goddesses of war and destruction, Sekhmet, Maahes, etc., were most frequently depicted with feline heads, and even outside of mythology, fictional gods of destruction, like Beerus, are depicted as cats, as well. So there you go on that ;)
> 
> And, last point, I promise;
> 
> Now, so, one thing here that Canon uses and I do, too, but that isn’t ACTUALLY scientifically accurate:  
> Black holes aren’t cosmic vacuum cleaners. They are only ‘dangerous’ should something be so unfortunate to be really close to it, because gravity. But … everything else stays in place, if it’s far enough out. There’s a black hole in the center of every galaxy, and it literally does nothing to us. It IS right that they CAN grow though – the more they ‘gobble up’, the bigger they become. That’s just not quite as catastrophic as every sci-fi movie ever made tries to make us believe. But, well, sci-fi likes the trope of black holes being really apocalyptic, and I do too, and after all, this is a MAGICAL black hole, created by Galaxia, forever growing pretty fast, so, forgive me the scientific inaccuracy, yes? Thanks.
> 
> Also, plus, you know… scientifically seen you’d be dead before you ever got the chance to actually fall INTO a black hole, anyway. In the seconds before you died you’d literally have been pulled into spaghetti (I‘m not kidding, the actual term of this is ‘spaghettification’) at the speed of light, plus the whole thing of the warping of space-time of a black hole, so someone seeing this from the outside would literally see you (if they COULD anyway, remember, no light escapes a black hole) fall in there FOREVER, while you, from the inside, would see time speed up so much that you’d be able to see all of time at once. So yeah. Black holes are an interesting, bizarre thing, and I’ve messed with them. But these are magical girls with magical powers, soooo…. Yeah. 
> 
> But, well, you’ll see. More on black holes next (and last) chapter, then. Usagi jumped into one, after all.
> 
> So yeah, one more chapter and an epilogue, and that’s it, we’re done!!  
> Let me know what you think, please!!!


	31. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so… last chapter. There’s a crazy ton of AN’s at the end, so I’ll leave you to read directly! Off into a black hole we hop:

What Usagi saw felt like a memory, and somehow, as if she was living it. Again? No… it was just ever so slightly off, somehow, even when it felt so, so real.

 

Her skin was slightly sticky from the hot, humid air, even though it was night. She lay on her back, on Mamoru’s thick blanket, next to him.

 

She remembered this. The stars above their heads, the taste of strawberries and Mamoru’s Maki still in her mouth, her hair, open and still damp from the shower, the soft black cotton of her thin, short summer dress against her naked skin.

 

“—The sun is one of hundreds of billions of stars in the Milky Way, which, again, have about 100 billion planets surrounding those stars, with a quite tame, supermassive black hole in its very center.”

 

Mamoru’s voice washed over her, thick and low and husky, right next to her. His arms gesticulated excitedly at the sky above them, the fabric of his shirt brushing against her with every move, his face angled up toward the sky, and somehow still toward her.

 

It was a memory, and yet it wasn’t. He was talking about the stars, because she’d asked, and yet… what she was about to ask had never happened.

 

She’d started, back then, at his mention of the black hole. Weren’t those a bad thing? But she hadn’t asked… and yet, here she did.

 

“What does a black hole do, Mamo-chan?” she heard herself ask, her voice sounding far away, like in a dream.

 

Yet it was all so real. The humidity in the air, the noises of Tokyo underneath them, here on top of the roof of Mamoru’s apartment building, their picnic under the stars.

 

Mamoru’s eyes twinkling, as he turned his head ever so slightly. His nose almost touched hers, the way they lay side by side. She could smell the clean, fresh, enticing scent of his skin, from the shower they’d just taken together.  She could feel his breath on her mouth, the rumble of his voice as he chuckled at her, the shudder in her core at the feel of his skin, as he threaded his fingers into the hem of her dress, brushing against her thighs.

 

She could feel the flutter in him, as he perceived her very primal reaction to his hands on her body, making him chuckle even more, touch even more.

 

“Is that a silly question?” she asked at his laugh, and he shook his head barely, smiling.

 

“Quite the opposite,” he said, looking into her eyes.

 

It felt good, his eyes on hers, so, so close. Like they were the only ones in the universe. Even when she knew that this conversation was the very opposite… explaining how extremely little they were compared to the impossible infinity of space.

 

It was so easy to forget, here… So easy to… what?

 

He craned his neck a bit, flicking his eyes back to the stars, then back to her.

 

“It’s just… a little difficult, because we don’t really know? There’s a few theories but well…” he frowned, and then turned fully back to her. “Well, here’s what we do know,” he said, and she giggled, because his hands were back up, gesticulating like he always did when he tried to explain.

 

“Black holes are what happen when certain stars die. When the core of a _really_ big star collapses, and I mean _really_ big star, much, much, bigger than our sun, then no force in the universe is strong enough to keep it from collapsing further and further, with the escape velocity being at the speed of light, so…” he trailed off, noticing her wide, intimidated eyes, no doubt about it, and flinched. “Sorry, am I going too fast?” he asked.

 

Usagi nodded, slowly, wide-eyed.

 

“Well, okay. Let me start somewhere else,” he smiled, kindly, and she nodded.

 

“So,” he said, starting back up, “there’s a thing called ‘escape velocity’. It’s the speed you need in order to overcome the gravity of an object, to fling it off its surface. Like, say, a rocket needs to be a certain amount of fast, so that it doesn’t get pulled back to Earth by the Earth’s gravity,” he said, and Usagi nodded yet again.

 

“The bigger the object, the bigger the gravity, and the bigger the escape velocity. For Earth the escape velocity is about 11km per second. If the rocket goes that fast and faster, then it’s gone and will never return.

 

“Now, a neutron star has an escape velocity of _half the speed of light_. The problem is, when a star collapses, the more the core shrinks, the gravity of it becomes stronger, and stronger and stronger,” he threw her a look, and she nodded once more, signaling she was coming along, “and the more the gravity increases, the higher the escape velocity becomes. So, when a _really_ huge star collapses, then the escape velocity is equal to the speed of light. And you know – _nothing_ can travel faster than the speed of light.”

 

She frowned, as he continued, moving his head a little on the blanket as he talked.

 

He shrugged. “So, that’s how a black hole is made. When its gravity becomes so high that not even light can escape, you’ve got yourself a black hole. Nothing, no matter of any kind can ever come out of it.”

 

Usagi blinked a little. It was so far beyond her imagination, a place so dense with gravity, that everything was forever trapped inside. Somewhere, deep, deep in the back of her mind, it stirred something in her. Something she should remember, something that was off.

 

As if that information should ring a bell.

 

She blinked. Mamoru continued.

 

“And that point of no return, the point where the escape velocity is the speed of light, we call the Event Horizon. Anything beyond that point can’t be known. We have no idea what’s behind,” he said, shooting her a slightly apologetic look.

 

She frowned. “But … what is behind it?”

 

Mamoru shrugged.

 

“Some people had ideas. Einstein, for instance. They are pretty intense. But… I mean it when I say ideas. There are no theories, just ideas. And any ideas – from Einstein to Asimov, they’re just that; ideas. Because no one can prove them, of course.”

 

She frowned, still. Somehow, somewhere, she didn’t know why… but, she _needed_ to know.

 

“What kind of ideas?” she asked, wondering why her tone of voice sounded slightly… desperate?

 

He blinked, obviously noticing her change in demeanor, but apparently deciding against commenting it. Instead, he answered.

 

“Well,” he said, “Einstein could show that space and time are just two sides of the same thing. Space-time. And _his_ idea was, maybe a black hole is a tunnel through space and time in the universe. Thus circumventing his own commandment that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. Kind of like an intergalactic subway system,” he said, smiling at her. “Going from this idea, if you could magically survive the trip into a black hole, you might just come out at a different place and time in our universe.”

 

He shrugged his shoulder once more, before continuing. “Other ideas are a bit more… out there. That a black hole might be the door to a different universe altogether. That the enormous energy that is utilized, as a giant star collapses and becomes a black hole, might just be the catalyst of a big bang within it, the formation of _another_ universe.”

 

Usagi’s eyes widened, and Mamoru’s smile turned wider at that.

 

“After all,” he continued, “a black hole warps space and time, and thus, could conceivably warp the space of an entire universe within itself, and black holes _inside_ it would do the same to other, new universes, again, and again, and again.” His eyes were back at the sky, his hands spreading out, indicating everything around them. “Like a Matroschka stacking doll of infinite universes. So, really, we would _already be_ inside one. Inside a black hole. The one that, after this idea, gave birth to _our_ universe.”

 

He took a breath, and turned his eyes back to her.

 

“Or, a third, different but somehow similar idea, yet again, partly derived from the principles of quantum physics?” he said, quietly, a little amused, “That a black hole is a kind of Nexus – a place where one can access and perceive _all_ the possible alternative universes. A window to a multiverse of places.”

 

“Eh?” Usagi said, a little confused.

 

“Like…  a door to many, many _more_ doors. All leading to other worlds, some inconceivably different than ours, and others just like this, with us inside, but all the ‘what if’s’ you can imagine differentiate them. Infinite universes, where everything that might ever have happened in all space and time did happen, every ‘what if’ split off, creating other universes. Anything you can imagine. A door to infinite worlds.”

 

She blinked. Heavily. Every ‘what if’…

 

It stirred something in her, and suddenly she remembered, broke out of it.

 

Remembered that this moment, here, was no memory. It never happened.

 

“Like, even, say, if I asked a different question, right now?” she asked, breathlessly, touching his hand.

 

It was warm, it was here.

 

He shrugged, again. “Sure, why not. A universe in which you asked something tonight that you didn’t ask in another,” he said, with a half smile, his eyes shining with amusement.

 

A joke, to him.

 

She blinked again, her breath coming short.

 

He nodded. “Yeah, that last one _is_ a bit trippy,” he shrugged. “I prefer number two.”

 

“Why?”

 

He shrugged again.

 

“It sounds a bit comforting? The idea of this infinite circle, of knowing what made us and knowing it can make new things. I like it. Doesn’t mean anything of course…”

 

With a rip, that felt like falling – the kind she knew from those moments, just before falling asleep, when it shook her, and it felt like there was no ground beneath her, she jerked awake, even when she hadn’t been sleeping.

 

For a second it felt like her brain might burst. It was bombarded with images, colors, light, at the same time that she felt everything there might ever have existed, numbing her to the point where she could hear, feel, smell, touch, taste, see everything at once… making her numb, blind and deaf to it all.

 

It was too much. It ripped her apart. It _hurt_ , so badly.

 

She pressed her eyes shut, and held her ears, or at least she imagined she did, for she couldn’t feel or see anything at all, and suddenly the storm calmed, and she felt some sort of gravity again, as her feet touched solid ground.

 

She was in a sort of room. Surrounding her, completely, circular but infinite, wherever she looked, were bubbles that reminded her of screens. Like a room of endless screens, all showing… her?

 

The air felt off, the gravity felt off, the bubbles wobbled when she touched them, when she realized that it was not really a room, and it was not really screens, but that this must be the only thing her brain could manage to make out of what she was experiencing, protecting her by molding it into something that she knew, and her breath hitched, when she took another look at the ‘screens’.

 

All of them showed her. But not really her. Worlds, and worlds, and worlds in which she lived a slightly, and sometimes altogether different life, any of her lives, all its entireties before her eyes.

 

What had Mamo-chan called it just now?

 

Nexus…

 

A Nexus. A window to every ‘what if’ that could ever have been and will ever be.

 

Her breath hitched, as she focused on the first screen, right in front of her.

 

She saw Luna, but bigger – a fully grown cat - with a band-aid on her forehead - and just a little later, herself, much younger. Luna presenting her with  a brooch she’d never seen, as she became Sailor Moon in her own bedroom, assuming this all to be a dream. And then…Beryl?  Mamoru, in a rather ugly green jacket, aloof, but… protecting her. Tuxedo Mask. Zoisite?… and then... Usagi had to close her eyes, gasping. Mamoru, again  - brainwashed. Pain. So much of it, until…  Natsumi and Seijuro as Ail and Ann? How absurd. Another flash, and then…A different kid falling from the sky, Mamoru breaking up, Mamoru coming back. Only to be taken again and again... and then leaving, for America, to die...

 

She turned her head. That one was just too painful.

 

The next one, starting the same way, only every so slightly different, yet somehow quicker. Luna. Bandaid. Sailor Moon. Meeting Ami first, then Rei, then… Beryl, again… Mamoru’s eyes red, calling himself, “Endo”,  and then… no, no, this was too much, this couldn’t be. Minako’s sword, wielded by Usagi’s hands, plunged deep into Mamoru and then she…

 

No, she couldn’t. She looked away, too much pain, turned her head again.

 

But in the next screen, she looked into the eyes of a soldier she knew was herself, but ancient, and broken. Her fuku completely white, color remaining only in the few strips of color on her skirt, the blue drained from her eyes, her buns in hearts, and saw her life - alone, all of them dead, yet protecting, forever. A sob broke from her throat, she couldn't look, this was too much.

 

She turned again, and this time she wore a crown, but older. The kid she saw before was at her side, older, too, in a pink dress. Mamoru in lavender. A crystal palace. It looked tedious. Serene, but dutiful. She saw the longing in her eyes, but also content. The life she might have grown up to live in the Silver Millennium. Regal, proud, lonely - in a way.

 

She turned. There must be more. There must be true happiness. And she found it. Mamoru, middle aged, a burnt birthday cake. Two daughters this time, and her, exhausted, a few grey hairs in her fringe, but blissfully happy.

 

She turned again. More happiness, and even more pain. More versions.

 

In some she’s a Senshi, sometimes she’s not. Sometimes she knows about her past life, sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she has found all her Senshi, in others she hasn’t. Every possibility is there.

 

Some are blissfully happy. She sees Motoki in one of them, listening, getting them – both of them. Sees herself in Motoki’s flat, thinking it a party, when really he’s just being the best friend in the world. That moment when they’re left alone and she pours out her heart, confessing, revealing herself, and then so does Mamoru. A moment that makes her heart explode in happiness, with Motoki eavesdropping, peeking in.

 

In a different one she sees herself on a beach at a lake in the middle of a forest, sitting next to Mamoru in a white bikini… and the same forest, later… throwing rocks at a mountain lion, running through the storm until she falls into Mamoru’s arms… it’s a magical moment, in a meadow, when they start to confess.

 

Another one, sitting next to Mamoru side by side on the floor in their PJs playing video games in a apartment that they share. A bet. The stakes are high – she gets to not do any chores at all if she wins. And it ends in his lap with his tongue in her mouth and against her ribcage and his hands in her…

 

Some of them start painfully - she saw herself in one, a different time, her hair dyed darkly and cut into a bob, spreading her hands to shield a kneeling, cornered Mamoru, guns trained at him by policemen and she's afraid, so afraid for him - but then, later...Minako saving them all, and her hair back to gold, growing back, as she held out her hand, and he came, walking toward their future…

 

And the next... she saw herself, older. The Senshi working alongside Tuxedo Mask but… she didn’t know. She didn’t know he was Mamoru even when they… a roof. And then herself again, much older, not a Senshi any longer, that pink haired kid again, this time it’s just them, she and her and Motoki’s counter at the Crown, scrubbing… until he’s back. Sitting there, and she doesn’t even know.

 

Her eyes can’t stop. They flick again. The next screen. A different life. A different version. A different time. Serenity, this time. A banquet. She’s waiting outside to be announced and there he is, Endymion. She’s cloaked in his colors, she knows she’ll be his wife, soon, tomorrow, officially this time. But his eyes are hard and his mouth is set as he leads her out. Words on his lips. He loves another. It breaks her heart, for both of them.

 

Some are so raw and heartbreaking and painful, it makes her choke. Hikawa as a boarding house, where she lives, a little older, all alone. Thinking she’d all imagined this. The moon, Luna, the girls. Mamoru nowhere to be seen as a man finds her, grey hair, seductive smile, shuts her in. Years in an asylum, until she’s out, picking up the pieces, and then there’s Seiya plucking at a guitar in the park.

 

Another, it makes her stomach plummet. She’s feral, on a leash, barely human. Beryl’s slave for what feels like centuries of torture and her mind going blank, as she’s led into a room and there he is. She remembers him, Endymion, only to watch him and do nothing as he kills himself— Only leading to the next life, directly, in this alternative, to be killed again and again and again…

 

She had to scrunch her eyes shut as she screamed, no. This can’t— This _can’t_ —

 

She breathed. Tried to calm herself. Tried to think.

 

Lots, and lots and lots of versions of her own life. Endless.

 

Why her?

 

She opened her eyes again. Tried to look for snippets for _other_ lives. But wherever she looked, she saw only more of herself.

 

No. This couldn’t be.

 

She pressed her hands into her temples. She was forgetting something, again. It was too much.

 

Hotaru, it whispered through her mind. Galaxia. The others. She needed to stop this. She needed to stop the black hole from spreading, but…

 

It took her awhile to figure it out. To realize that that wasn’t all there was, couldn’t be all there was – it was just the tiny portion that she could see.

 

That every being on every planet must have as many versions.

 

But that it had to mean one thing… She gasped when the thought came to her.

 

She screamed loudly. Screamed her own name.

 

The old one. The one they all knew in their heart. Every version. Serenity.

 

Started to laugh, hands over her mouth, when they reacted. All of them.

 

Just a moment. Just a glimmer of a, ‘what was that?’ moment, but they all did.

 

… She saw all these versions of herself, because she was connected to _each one_.

 

And it was hard, so hard, and her head hurt so much, but it was the only thing she could do, and so she found herself kneeling on the floor of a room that wasn’t a room, shouting, so loud, screaming, her mother’s prayer. Her first mother. The prayer she had sent to the Silver Crystal when she was a little girl, to keep her safe.

 

She shouted it, again and again. Loud, louder, until her throat was raw, she shouted it.

 

And one by one, it worked. She felt it— the power of the Silver Crystal.

 

But not just hers.

 

One by one the screens turned brighter, and brighter, and she shouted on, as she accessed the Silver Crystal’s power in every single version of her life.

 

L

 

 

Kinmoku shook.

 

Seiya fell on his knees, choking on his tears. Mamoru next to him, how could he be so still? Minako, howling, running, when they still saw Sailor Moon suspended in eternity, in the air, jumping up…

 

Seiya banged his fists on the ground, only dimly noticing how it was now living grass that he grasped, ripped out, destroyed in his anger, despair.

 

And then the sky lit up. Brighter than Galaxia’s sun had been only moments before it collapsed. The light was so bright it could have been pure, black darkness for the effect it had on his vision.

 

And when it disappeared, Kinmoku was no longer shaking.

 

His breath died in his throat, and he coughed around it, gulping in air, wide eyed.

 

The black hole was gone. The light Galaxia had stolen was back, glimmering distantly in the sky.

 

One of Kinmoku’s three suns was rising. The one that had just been devoured.

 

And when he’d heard them scream before – Minako the loudest, Ami’s soft wail, Haruka’s yelling of profanities, Yaten’s sob in despair and grief….

 

They were now completely still. Petrified. Only Mamoru remained the same, still. So weirdly still, eyes fixed and gloomy and determined, unchanged.

 

Seiya eyed him. He couldn’t read him. He didn’t understand. He’d seen him trying, he didn’t know what he’d said of course, saw Sailor Moon change… and then he just let her go?! Seiya didn’t understand.

 

But when Mamoru finally moved, inhaling sharply, his eyes widening, fixed to the sky, Seiya couldn’t help but whip his eyes to where he was looking.

 

It felt like Seiya’s heart was stopping.

 

It started slowly, first. A slow trickle, like a little stream. Colorful, fluttery energy that poured from the horizon, manifesting into perfect, symmetrically shaped crystals.

 

His heart thumped, as if it wanted to beat out of his chest. He heard it thundering in his ears like a drum too near to his ears, hurting it.

 

They were star seeds. Trickling, trickling into the sky. Thousands of them. Maybe tens of thousands.

 

And like a vision drowned men see in the desert, of what their heart most desired, she shimmered into existence, shining in the light like a too bright pearl, flickering into being at their horizon, boots planted on fresh glistening soil, just standing there, almost hidden in the glimmering light of flashing star seeds.

 

Their shine extended, growing warmer, and like shooting stars, suddenly, they dispersed in all directions across the sky, until only she was left.

 

Softly, quickly, brightly – there she stood, chest rising as she breathed, eyes blank, vacant, as if she weren’t really in there, the soft, warm light pulsing off of her body.

 

In her arms she held two bundles, one in either arm. One sleeping, one crying, little pudgy pink arms extended, tiny, thick fingers flexing.

 

He let himself fall on his back, and the tears came freely, when next to him, Mamoru jerked to life, hands flying briefly up to his face before he took off running.

 

The tears came freely, of course, while he lay on his back on lush grass, smelling like home, looking into the sky he’d seen all his life.

 

Home.

 

She’d done it. She’d saved them all.

 

More than that. They’d been given back their home.

 

This was actually real.

 

He couldn’t stop the hysteric sobs, the choking cries, the stream of never-ending tears.

 

L

 

Taiki clutched and rocked the little bundle of tiny, newborn arms and legs and mewling sighs tightly against his chest, felt the navy colored blazer that he wore growing damp where the baby tried to gnaw at suck at him, aiming for food like her instincts told her to.

 

Galaxia.

 

They needed to give her a proper name.

 

He looked sideways and saw the same sight mirrored to him, seeing Michiru rock the baby that had been Sailor Saturn only moments before, softly cooing to her.

 

It had not been a surprise to Taiki, when they’d landed back on Earth, teleporting back to the exact spot they had left from – the crater that had once been the tall Infinity building – to see a sunrise over lifeless, disgusting and oily, but absolutely harmless and still goo. After all, the essence that had made it deadly had died with Saturn and Mistress 9. She’d driven Pharaoh 90’s essence completely into herself. It had died with her. And like a hive mind, with the host dead, the spawn died, too.

 

What had surprised him, was to learn that only days had passed here on Earth while they’d spent those minutes on Kinmoku.

 

They’d been close to a black hole. The contortion of spacetime they had been exposed to easily could have catapulted them into 30th century Earth.

 

And while the thought quickly flickered through his mind, the curiosity and even slight disappointment – he would have been excited to learn what would have become of a city like Tokyo in the 30th century – he figured he shouldn’t question it anymore, the magic that was this incredible princess of the moon. The magic that had saved them all, and brought his very own sun back into his sky, the one he’d been named after, as if it had never happened in the first place.

 

She was still glowing – Usagi. Her hair a shade lighter, her crescent moon glowing faintly and not disappearing anymore, even when she was de-transformed and sleeping, exhausted, as she was carried piggyback by her boyfriend through the surprisingly cleaned up streets of this center of destruction.

 

It gave him hope, and so much firm conviction, the sight this city made. Seeing that the rubble was already being moved by machinery. Workers and cleaners in heavy utility attire were already doing their best to reconstruct this city. Picking up the pieces like they did after every blow that hit them, be it earthquakes, tsunamis or possessed acidic fluids.

 

Like the resilient, powerful survivors that they were, this species.

 

Taiki exhaled slowly. The little bundle in his arms started to gurgle and her eyes started to droop, while Yaten tried to touch her, coo at her, and Taiki swatted his arm away. Mumbling lowly what the hell he was thinking, she was starting to sleep.

 

A peek into his future, no doubt. Raising this child with these two idiots by his side, he thought, chuckling.

 

But they would do their best, he knew that. This time Galaxia would be raised with love, to be and do good, as best as any person could try to be.

 

But yes, seeing these workers gave him the conviction he needed. Kinmoku was alive. Revived. They too, could take the rubble and stack it back up. It would take a while of course. Even with the aid of Senshi power, it would be months of work, maybe years until they could take their people back there, and hoped they still would want to come. But it was not only a possibility, it was a fact that it would happen. Kinmoku would rise, he would make sure of that.

 

A few workers on the street yelled after them. Politely, this was still Japan, but decisively. They could not be here, it was evacuated, the rubble might still fall, shoo. Some more helpful and concerned, and so, after a little while, they found themselves being packed up into two cars of helpful strangers and driven up to the Tsukino household and their Senshi command central.

 

He got out after Michiru, holding Hotaru gently, Haruka hovering close.

 

It had been the quickest decision Taiki had ever seen being made, when they volunteered to take her. Haruka’s voice had quivered when she said she owed this girl a wonderful life.

 

Mamoru folded himself out of the car last, and helped Usagi, visibly weak, from the car. Minako hovered close. Mamoru offered to carry her again, but she declined, shaking her head slowly.

 

They didn’t have to ring a bell. The ruckus the two cars made was enough so that the door flew open, and Ikuko Tsukino flew from it with a cry, gathering up her daughter with a litany of prayers on her lips.

 

_Thank the gods._

 

Though Taiki knew of course, that the gods had nothing to do with their return. It had been Sailor Moon.

 

He stood patiently, as did Seiya and Yaten, when from the door, behind Kenji, three more figures immerged. Smiling, crying.

 

The star seeds had been faster than them, arriving, obviously.

 

Rei was bawling like a baby, very, very unlike her, when Usagi fell into her arms. Makoto giggled through her tears. A tall woman Taiki had never seen before, yet knew who it must be, with dark green hair was kissed on the forehead by Haruka.

 

They were filed into the house, one by one, and Taiki’s throat closed up when he, too, was engulfed in a hug, Galaxia in his arms and all, by the warm embrace of Ikuko Tsukino. Whispered thanks in his ears. Thank you for helping keep everyone safe. Thank you for bringing back my baby girl.

 

His throat closed up even more when he knelt in front of his princess, who was crying to see him, clutching Makoto’s hand, when he showed her the baby, declaring her Kakyuu’s new little sister, and how would she like that?

 

Closed up even further when Kakyuu beamed and nodded her head wildly, that she would like that very much.

 

And finally, he choked back a dry sob of gratitude, overwhelmed by the feeling of love in this room, when he saw Usagi’s little brother come up to her –ever so slightly taller than her – stroke his thumb across her forehead where her crescent moon was still glowing, looking at her sternly, and then engulfing her in a hug.

 

It was Yaten’s quiet question that stilled the room a bit, made them file down into Senshi Command Central, little Shingo tagging along wide-eyed under his father’s arm.

 

“What about Chaos. It’s still piling up in the air, I can feel it festering all around, still.”

 

He was right of course. Chaos, the natural manifestation of it, was still here. And even when Usagi frowned and said it was alright, it belonged in the hearts of people, her frown stayed, before she talked quietly to Ami.

 

He knew Usagi could feel it. That there was too much hate, that it was bubbling over. That it wasn’t over yet.

 

Yes, it belonged in the hearts of people, but not so much of it.

 

“Galaxia was right…  a little, you know”, Taiki caught Usagi’s voice saying through in the low, quiet conversation, “I’m not defeating Chaos just by hoping. It’s not enough if only _we_ hope for it…”

 

But, as Usagi’s eyes hardened, and she took Ami’s whispered advice, he had no fear and doubt left in himself. Someone who could do what she had done…

 

She was the Senshi of Purity, after all.

 

He watched Mamoru fuss a little, when she wobbled slightly on her feet, but, still glowing as she was, touched her brooch anyway. Large, plush feathered wings extended from her back that made Shingo exclaim in shock and Kakyuu giggle excitedly, when she once again transformed.

 

Watched her lower herself in front of Ami’s large control console, while Ami spoke to her reassuringly. That it was no problem at all.

 

An artificial but warm voice came from the console, speaking in answer to a question Ami had made Usagi ask a little louder, making Shingo jump a mile and Seiya blink confusedly, but everyone else seemed used to what must be the Command Central’s A.I.

 

“ _Yes, hime-sama, you may speak straight ahead and freely. Your message will be broadcasted and translated to this world_.”

 

Usagi had blanched, gone a little pale. Started asking for advice, and that she needed a  moment, when Hotaru started crying, waking Galaxia who joined in the chorus, and Michiru and Taiki had nodded at each other, and started back up the stairs, their cue to leave, Yaten and Haruka right behind.

 

They both paced the Tsukino living room for a little while, minutes, until the babies calmed down a little. Yaten opened the patio door for him, and with a little breath of fresh air, Galaxia’s hiccupping cries at least grew quieter. By the time at least Hotaru was back to sleep, with Yaten’s snorting remark that of course, _they_ would have the easier baby, which Taiki only graced with an eyeroll, Kenji Tsukino and Makoto had joined them upstairs, when suddenly, all their phones, as well as the TV set, flickered on by themselves.

 

They all showed the image of Eternal Sailor Moon.

 

Taiki sat down slowly, just by the patio doors to keep the baby still – she seemed to like seeing the sky – and watched the image clear her throat, before she started talking.

 

Then stumble over her words, and start again.

 

He smiled, while Yaten groaned.

 

“Give her some credit,” Taiki said in a low voice. “It’s not everyday you’re talking to every person on the planet.”

 

She cleared her throat again, started with a few words that she broke off. “Hello, I’m Sailor Moon… eh, I guess you know that?” Then shook her head, banging it a little, mumbling “ugh, baka,” to herself.

 

But then her eyes grew determined, and he knew she had it.

 

“Um, look into the sky, if you can?” she asked, then closed her eyes.

 

He didn’t, at first, looked at her instead, even when Haruka and Kenji got up and strode next to him to the patio doors, gasping.

 

The glow on Usagi intensified, brightened the screen, her forehead pulsing so brightly the color setting on Kenji’s big, plasma TV couldn’t keep up.

 

His eyes flicked up despite himself, out the patio doors, and then widened.

 

The moon was giant in the sky. Glowing brightly, shining even when the sun was high in the sky. And from it, the same glow showered that Usagi had just emanated. Warm like her light into the air.

 

It was strange, so strange, but he could breathe it in. It filled him with the same warm, pure, light. Made his heart a little lighter.

 

He knew of course that this must be the Silver Crystal’s power that he felt. This warm ray of purity that wrapped around his heart.

 

When he looked back at the screen, Sailor Moon’s smile was matching the feeling in his chest. It looked as if she were looking right at him. And when he glanced around, he was sure the others felt the same way.

 

There she was, broadcasting to every phone, every TV, every computer, every billboard screen on the planet, directly translated by Ami’s clever A.I., and she touched her forehead, and let go of her transformation.

 

But she was Usagi only briefly, a tiny moment, before the pink ribbons turned into white lace with golden embroidery, and the crescent moon on her forehead even more pronounced, silver mingling into her blonde hair, turning it lighter, and lighter, and lighter.

 

She faltered only for a moment before she finally spoke in earnest.

 

“Um, well… you know me, guys. You’ve seen me on the news countless times. Me and my friends. My name is Sailor Moon, the magical girl with the magical powers in Japan… I guess you’ve all wondered where that power comes from…” she trailed off. Her voice was quivering, but yet she was confident, when she braced back her shoulders on screen and tapped on her forehead. On her crescent moon.

 

She leaned back, smiled.

 

“You see it out there, right? In the sky? Shining? That’s where I come from. I hope you can feel its warmth right now. I had a little left in me, from just now, so…”

 

And yes, he felt it, too. That burning thaw in his chest, the warmth where he’d breathed it in settling. Healing.

 

She shook her head sharply.

 

“It sounds crazy, I know, but I’m from the moon, and from a different time. Thousands of years ago my name was Serenity. I was the heir to the Moon Kingdom, the only princess. I was born to protect this world, but I was killed by hate personified. I’m back now, and picking up on the job but…”

 

She sighed, crunched up her nose in a crinkly, apologetic smile.

 

“I know this is hard to grasp and hard to wrap your head around, believe me I know, it’s crazy to me too… but…you guys all felt this right? These past weeks, months? Years?”

 

She leaned a little forward, looking worriedly right at him, or so it felt, and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Kenji with his hands in his hair, worried, and proud, and transfixed.

 

“The way it got more hostile, more wary, more hateful in the world?  The way terror and death started to become normal on the news. Not because there are wars everywhere, although there seem to be, but because there’s just… so much hate and fear?”

 

She leaned back again, her voice so calm, so collected and he knew it couldn’t be natural. He knew she’d be more nervous. She knew it must be Mamoru back down there with her, calming her emotions with his powers, as she talked from her heart. To everyone.

 

She cleared her throat, frowning sadly.

 

“The way we started seeing things in the world again we thought we'd have been over. The way we look at each other and see strangers, competitors, people who take up space you'd need, even enemies... instead of…” she trailed of, cocking her head sideways, her eyes full of sympathy and grace, likely to a queen. “…Instead of this other, lonely person, with doubts and wishes and dreams and self-conscious thoughts about their place in the world, and how the hell he or she is supposed to do this thing called living. A person just like yourself, going around the world with self-conscious glances, not knowing how to really act, turning into suspicion. We're side by side. On trains, at traffic lights, in endless queues in the supermarket, never looking up. never seeing we're not alone in this…”

 

Taiki swallowed, and Usagi smiled. Her face enlarged on the big screen.

 

She seemed other-worldy. Which she was, of course. But she seemed truly serene, in a way, like this.

 

She was doing a hell of a job, there…

 

“Well…” she said, her voice turning brighter, a little more Usagi in this queen in front of him, and the baby on his arms finally fell asleep. “…I’m telling you -you’re _NOT_ alone in this. We’re here. We protect you. I will _always_ be here for you...” she said, voice strong and imploring, then turning softer again. “I believe _in every single one of you_ …”

 

She sighed.

 

“But I need you to listen,” she said. Then she shrugged with a smile. “Not to me, really. But to each other. I need you all to look up and see those other people, all those strangers, as someone who is just like you!”

 

She nodded, straightening.

 

“We can do this together. I know we can. We can reach out our hands, and be there for each and everyone. We can be good. We can do good. I know we can,” she said.

 

“I promise I will protect you with my dying breath from every threat that comes from outside, but I need your help with the inside part.”

 

Her smile was warm, and yes, he knew he’d thought her naïve all this time, but… now? Now he believed she might just pull this off.

 

She folded her hands. Her voice became imploring, but still so gentle.

 

“I need you to be the kind of person who someone else has no need to be afraid of. I need you to be the kind of person who would not exploit another person, wherever this person is in the world, or if you’ve ever seen them face to face or not. I need you to be the kind of person who reaches out and helps, if it’s with their homework, or with their hunger. Give each other chances, trust each other. It’s all I ask.”

 

She broke off, but only briefly, and he knew her father was already crying in pride.

 

“Maybe it’s a lot to ask,” she said, “and maybe it’s not. But it’s what I’m asking of you, each and every one of you. Every politician and every child in this world, every doctor and every person who has suffered so much misfortune that they would become criminal. It’s what I know we were meant to be. One people. One human race. Please, all of us,” she said, her voice rising.

 

“Let’s be good,” she said. “Let’s do good.”

 

She inhaled, looked to the side, nodded. To Ami surely. And with another flicker, the TV turned back to normal. The way it had been, before, switched off, and so did the phones.

 

It was eerily silent afterwards, no one said a word. No one looked away from the black screen.

 

Until Hotaru let out a high pitched wail, and the bundle in his own arms followed suit, and Yaten groaned.

 

It was not long after, that the living room filled, and Usagi came in, looking as weak as a frail old lady, needing to be supported, but of course Mamoru was all too willing to do just that, glued to her side.

 

“Will it help?” Yaten asked.

 

Ami shrugged. “Not right away, maybe. But… it’s a start,” she said.

 

“It’s a good start,” Makoto chimed in, voice oozing with pride, and Usagi smiled a tired, tired smile.

 

It was a weird mood, really.

 

Exhausted. Ecstatic, hopeful and also so unsure of what came now.

 

Conversation trailed to a stop, only the mewling babies oblivious to the discomfort of it.

 

It was Rei who broke it. And Taiki blinked.

 

It was so good, and so weird, to see her. He was compelled to ask how it felt. What it was like? Where she’d been, or if she’d been at all, yet… He didn’t.

 

“What will you do, now?” Rei asked.

 

And he knew what she implied. Would they stay, the three of them, or not? And all those youngsters Rei had grown so fond of.

 

Yaten exhaled. Nodded.

 

Only Seiya kept his lips in a straight line and eyes fixed to the floor.

 

Taiki knew he was the only one of them unhappy with the decision.

 

“We’ll go back,” Taiki said, voice confident like Usagi’s had been just now. “We have a world to rebuild,”

 

Yaten nodded.

 

“And once we’ve got at least a little something set up, we’ll come back for the others,” Yaten declared, throwing Taiki a look, “and our princess.”

 

He only smiled back.

 

The awkward silence returned. Shuffling feet. Not knowing what to say.

 

This was goodbye, for now, but no one was saying it.

 

And he had no idea what to even begin to say. Thank you for saving us, our princess, our world, the universe? Bye now? See you in a year or two, maybe, when we relieve you of all the people we’re just assuming you’ll be watching over for us until then? How would anyone put this into words?

 

“I’ll come with you,” Ami whispered.

 

Seiya’s eyes whipped up, confused, and Taiki looked at her perplexed, while Makoto and Minako both exclaimed in shrieking voices.

 

What?

 

Ami nodded. “I’ll come with you. You’ve seen the Command Central. You see what I can do with technology. You can use my help. At least for a little while, a few months, perhaps.”

 

He shook his head frowning. He couldn’t ask this. Why should she—

 

Ami shook her head sharply. “It’s the least I can do for you,” she said, voice thick with emotion.

 

He swallowed. Read it clear in her face. How it had tortured her to watch Kinmoku burn and do nothing about it. Saw how she was doing this for herself, too.

 

He exchanged glances with Seiya and Yaten, and then to Usagi. Frowning.

 

Usagi shrugged, and smiled, first at Ami, then at them. “Bring her back in one piece, please. And soon,” she said, her voice trembling a little, before her eyes whipped back to Ami’s.

 

Ami hugged her tightly, whispering in her ear, and the girls got louder, talking, arguing, laughing, relieved.

 

And that weird mood. They’d been fighting for so long… and now it was just over.

 

Taiki got up. No use staying any longer.

 

He wasn’t good with goodbyes. Turned over to see Seiya give Usagi a tight hug, and Mamoru this awkward handshake. And Minako yank Yaten down for a hug he grumpily accepted. Ami took the longest, obviously.

 

When they turned to leave, and Usagi came up to him, engulfing him in a hug and whispering tiny things to the baby in his arms, he had that tight feeling in his throat again.

 

They owed this girl the world. The Cosmos.

 

And she’d kept saying it, over and over. That she was born to save this world. But that wasn’t all she’d done. She was born to protect the Earth and the Solar System. But yet, now she was the protector of the Cosmos.

 

It would be a more fitting name for her.

 

“Take good care of her, please?” Usagi asked.

 

Taiki couldn’t help it, he snorted. It was such a weird situation.

 

But he nodded, smiling. “We will.”

 

She nodded, her lips twisting in the most genuine kind of smile.

 

Taiki frowned back at her, pressing his lips together, exhaling through his nose.

 

“You’ll be an exceptional ruler one day,” he said.

 

And it was Usagi’s turn to snort, eyebrows raised all ‘Yeah right, no way’.

 

“Yeah right,” she said, and Taiki had to laugh, as she repeated his thoughts exactly. “No way. I’m no ruler.”

 

He chuckled, and turned down to kiss her forehead. Softly. The way he had done countless times to his princess. A sign of worship on Kinmoku.

 

“Thank you, Usagi. All of you. Thank you for everything.”

 

He smiled, nodded at the others as they turned to leave, threw one last look over his shoulder as they all piled out of the Tsukino house, waving.

 

At the faint crescent moon on Usagi’s forehead, not yet faded away, still pulsing just a little.

 

Yes, she would be an exceptional ruler to this world, one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I had lots of tones of things to say here, but Ao3 only allows quite few end notes. So. For the extenced version, go to FF .net ;)  
> BUT:  
> So, first, I’m a big fan of the “Evil Baby Orphanage” Idea, spread by the Green Brothers Nerdfighters. That thought experiment, when asked what you could do if you could magically go back in time and kill Hitler, for instance. And the answer that, if you can go back in time in the first place, why don’t you go back in time a little further, pluck baby Hitler from his crib and put him in the Evil Baby Orphanage with all the other “Evil” people from history, and raise him to be a decent person this time around, instead, so he might even choose differently and not kill millions of people and go to war, but to turn somewhat into a good person. Cause even Hitler wasn’t born an evil baby. He became that way through time. So yeah, instead of going back in time to kill Hitler, go back in time to turn Hitler into a normal fucking human being who wouldn’t plunge the world into the horror of WWII and try to do a way better job at his point and position in history, and change history that way.(And of course, repeat that process with every “Evil Baby”, pretty much eternally, until no one is left hypothetically to take Hitler’s place in this narrative.) 
> 
> And yeah, so of course Galaxia, seeing as I didn’t even make her prototypically “evil”, would get her redemption like this, seeing as the Sailor Moon story already does this for Hotaru. A chance for this poor tortured woman who has spent all her life, in the Manga, in search for a home and goodness in the universe and growing bitter and cruel over never finding it, to grow up again in happiness and goodness, this time around. Not having to search for it at all. Plus, obviously I’d see Usagi a huge supporter of the Evil Baby Orphanage idea. Don’t kill the bad guys, make them good guys instead, is like, trademark Usagi move. 
> 
> Now, in the S ending, we never saw what happened when Usagi jumped after Saturn. And while I like the mystery, and kept it in part, I did want to show a little of it… and well, you saw what I did here, of course ;) If we have no idea what’s inside a black hole, then I get to choose. So I picked from existing ideas, breathed some life into it, making it into a door to a multitude of universes.  
> And, of course I would take the opportunity to pay tribute to all those hundreds of “Alternative Universes” this fandom has already in store, so that’s exactly what I did. 
> 
> Someone on tumblr (sadly I have NO idea who it was – help me out, here?) once threw that headcanon into the room, that every AU ever made was somehow connected, and even those without Senshi power were just versions in which they never woke, and somewhere Pluto is watching them happily, content that they get to live a peaceful, happy life. 
> 
> Well, I like that idea. And this is what I did. Making this Nexus into a portal to every AU ever made, connecting them all,   
> and letting Usagi glimpse into some of my favorites.   
> And to give credit to all these wonderful people, here are the fics I alluded to, in the Nexus, in alphabetical order:
> 
> A Murderous Time by JadeEye/EightofSwords  
> A Space in the Clouds by Antigone2  
> Crazy by Greta  
> Obligation and Desire by UglyGreenJacket  
> Phantom by Irritablevowel  
> Quid Pro Quo by Adamina  
> The Reveal by Kasienda  
> The Serenity Case by Antigone 2
> 
> And one more story, which is an AU ficlet I’ve started to draft, but haven’t written, yet, for a glimpse into the future ;)  
> And of course, if you wanna know which is which, I advice to go and start reading all these wonderful gems, if you haven’t already!
> 
> ... I also had lots of crazy special thanks to give, and ramble on about future fic plans, but I'll be a little more specific, here:
> 
> You guys. Thank you for all that support during the writing of this story – all those amazing reviews for Yugen.   
> And I do mean all of YOU lovely people;
> 
> Betty-Alexandria Pride, irritablevowel, adymlv, Roxypockets, MiamiB, CatelynTsukino, met_a_mawr_fuh_sis, rustedbrandy, Lady_River31, Gerbilfriend, tamaraneankori, Edmondia_Dantes, amonkeysue, jaondm, DIa, Mirax, Tim Young, AlexSeanchai, Lady Lucis, Shay, rebeccasaurus, stylesera
> 
> Some of you have been reviewing since Ikigai, walking this path with me from the start, others have joined this party later, but I’m equally, and SO, grateful for each and EVERY one of your reviews.   
> You’ve made me giggle, sigh, giddy. Made me feel appreciated and so, so validated, every chapter, and it’s the reason why I’m going out of this with a smile, determined to come back.
> 
> See you soon, guys, with the epilogue, and hopefully in my next story, after that, too <3


	32. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So, two things before we start.
> 
> First, we never learned Galaxia’s “civilian” name, so I gave her one in tribute to someone very great. You’ll see who.
> 
> Second, I wrote this while listening to the following song by Postmodern Jukebox: “Marry You” Canon Mashup for violin and piano. It’s on Youtube if you wanna listen to it, too ;)

L

 

Epilogue

 

L

 

Usagi’s eyes, agitated, whipped to Makoto’s, when she barged through the door, white skirts fluttering about Makoto’s form.

 

“Ok! False Alarm!” Makoto declared, “The rings _aren’t_ lost, Hotaru-chan had them in her _other_ pocket,” she said, and the room visibly relaxed. “Setsuna has them now, and will only give them back to her when she _actually_ gets her cue to bring them up.”

 

Usagi exhaled a breath, relieved, yet her fingers couldn’t seem to stop trembling.

 

But her mother’s hands found their way onto them, as Minako, also in white, like all her Senshi today, was busy combing out her hair, and Ami unzipped the lush garment bag, freeing layers upon layers of white silk and organza, hanging it onto the open wardrobe door behind her.

 

Usagi exhaled, slowly, looking up into her mother’s comforting, calming eyes.

 

Usagi nodded. There wasn’t anything to be said that Ikuko hadn’t said to her a hundred times, already, today.

 

It was normal to be nervous on your wedding day.

 

Usagi inhaled again, deeply, as Ikuko once again lifted her brush and dabbed rouge to her cheeks, softly, not too much, and Minako put her hair into her signature buns. She’d briefly thought about doing something else with her hair for the occasion, but the girls had all looked at her like she was crazy when she’d brought it up, and then decided against it.

 

Yes, she thought, when her hair was up, and Minako finished pinning the flowers into it. Yes. It was the right decision. She should look like herself today.

 

The face that looked back at her in the mirror was a little older, a little less round, her cheekbones more pronounced, the body attached to it more womanly. But she could still see the sixteen year old girl who had confessed her love to her soulmate on his bed, all those years ago.

 

That sixteen year old buried in her face was giddiest of all, today.

 

“So,” Minako began, looking through the mirror, but not at Usagi, but at Ikuko. “Is Kenji very disappointed he doesn't get to give his daughter away, after all?”

 

Ikuko snorted, and Usagi giggled.

 

“Nah,” Ikuko said, lowering her brush. Usagi’s makeup was finished. “He's fine. He gets to be father of the bride _and_ best man, and thus hold pretty much _ALL_ the speeches. He’s fine,” she said, winking.

 

“Plus,” Ikuko added, her gaze falling back to Usagi, her eyes so warm and smile so kind, when she continued answering Minako’s question, yet eyes fixed on her daughter, “we both know our daughter is very much capable of handling her own. She’s not one who needs giving away.”

 

Usagi smiled back proudly, her hands stilling a little with the calming nerves. It had been a last minute decision, to walk down the aisle together. To start this road together hand in hand, like they would walk it for the rest of their life. Hand in hand, together. Forever.

 

Ami cleared her throat politely, and Usagi’s eyes went back to the big, golden framed mirror to find her gaze.

 

She was holding up the dress. It was time.

 

Usagi nodded, swallowing.

 

Rei barged into the room, this time, door banging against the wall, when Usagi had just stepped into her heavy, beautiful dress, and Ami helped her into it, Minako’s hands already fluttering about the lacing on her back.

 

“Ok, everyone’s starting to get seated now, Mamoru’s done and outside greeting everyone,” Rei declared, her seventh status update in about ten minutes, and Usagi giggled a little when she shut the door behind herself, once more, as loudly as she’d done coming in.

 

“Wait!” Makoto called, face contorted in remembrance of something that needed to be obviously done _right now_ , and hopped after Rei, out the door as well.

 

It really made Usagi happy to see how all her girls, all of them in white like her, seemed to be just as nervous as she was, especially Rei.

 

Ikuko giggled a little, like Usagi hadn’t heard her giggle in a while, when Usagi oompfed and ow’ed her way through Minako’s very vocal process of lacing her up, and Ami handed her her long, white gloves that she slipped on.

 

It was Ikuko’s turn to exhale slowly and smile a little shakily, when she fastened Usagi’s little gold necklace around her neck.

 

A golden crescent moon. Her mother had bought it for her when she was only fourteen, saying it just felt right for her when she’d seen it. And in a way, because it had been Ikuko who gave it to her, it symbolized both her worlds to her.

 

Usagi swallowed around the lump in her throat, her gloved hand going up to her necklace in the mirror, and Minako’s hands stilled at her back, finally done.

 

“Do you have your vows all memorized?” Ikuko asked, and Usagi nodded, sheepishly plucking a little folded piece of paper from inside her glove, to Minako’s snort.

 

Ikuko laughed, and Usagi shrugged, a little embarrassedly.

 

“I'm worried I'll forget them,” Usagi admitted, her hand going to her hair in reflex, only to be caught by a tutting Minako, to not fuss with her hair.

 

The door once again banged against the wall, when it was pushed open. Both Ami and Ikuko still jumped at it, rolling their eyes.

 

“Ok,” Rei declared, a little too loudly. “Almost all the guests are seated now.” And with that she was gone, again.

 

Minako cackled.

 

But before Minako even got a chance to remark, the door opened again. Slowly, this time.

 

Makoto’s face peeked around the door.

 

“Usagi-chan?” she said, smiling from ear-to ear. “There’s someone here to see you.”

 

And with that, she opened up the door a little wider, revealing the face of a young woman, red hair, gentle smile.

 

Usagi blinked for just a few moments, not immediately recognizing her, but when Ikuko inhaled sharply, crying out with her hands on her mouth, the penny dropped, and Usagi began to shriek excitedly.

 

“Hello, Usagi-chan” Kakyuu said, giggling, before she was engulfed in a Tsukino Usagi bear hug.

 

It lasted quite a while, until Ikuko wanted her turn, and Kakyuu – how could this graceful woman be her tiny little Chibi-Kiju??!! – explained that she wanted to say ‘Hi’ beforehand, as she didn’t want to interrupt the ceremony.

 

Usagi shook her head, still speechless, holding Kakyuu at arm’s length and turning her around and around, looking her up and down in awe.

 

How…?

 

Kakyuu giggled with her hand in front of her mouth, promising her they were going to be here all day and all night, and they would have lots of time to talk.

 

We?

 

Usagi blinked, wide-eyed, repeating her thought. “We?”

 

Kakyuu’s smile turned even warmer. “We all came, of course. All five of us,” she said. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

And then the door flew open again, heavily, banging. Rei.

 

“Usagi!” she said, face flushed, then shook her head, clearing it, and smiled. “Ready?”

 

L

 

Seiya tugged a little on his suit. It felt a little uncomfortable, but he guessed that was more the situation than the garment, when he approached the line to greet the groom.

 

Mamoru hadn’t seen them, yet. And Seiya really, _really_ hoped he didn’t mind them, here. Didn’t mind _him_ , here…

 

But… there was no way he would have missed this.

 

His heart was in his throat when Mamoru was done shaking the person’s hand in front of them, and his eyes fell on him.

 

They widened, just little.

 

And then broke into a full smile.

 

Seiya exhaled, when he stepped up.

 

Mamoru extended his hand immediately, and Seiya took it, before Mamoru engulfed it with his other hand, as well

 

“I’m very glad you’re here,” Mamoru said, voice low, quiet.

 

Seiya gulped. Nodded.

 

“It will mean a lot to Usagi,” Mamoru added, and Seiya could only nod again…

 

Before he was rudely punched in the shoulder from the side.

 

“Oi, hurry will ya?” Yaten boomed. “There’s other people in this line, you know?”

 

Mamoru laughed. A tinkling, happy sound that felt like balm, and Seiya had to laugh, too.

 

And when he was shuffled off and away, Seiya still lingered a bit, letting Yaten and Taiki greet Haruka and Michiru, and Usagi’s father, who they saw in a distance, leaving Seiya to watch Mamoru a little while longer.

 

He’d never seen the guy so very, very happy.

 

When it was time, and Kakyuu had exited what he knew to be the bridal room, Seiya made his way into the ceremony hall, lavishly decorated in white and spurs of color, and so many flowers the room seemed to drown in it.

 

Some people glanced at him, recognizing him, trying to seem inconspicuous as they hid their pointing fingers, recognizing him from a few years ago. Was that…?

 

He recognized a few faces, as well, of course. Naru and her boyfriend, a little older, a little more put together, dashing in their formal attire. Other old school mates, and the like.

 

He excused himself in low tones when he had to make the people in his row – the groom’s side – get up to let him through, and settled next to Taiki.

 

“You ok?” Taiki asked, voice laced with sympathy, bouncing little Naoko on his knee, as she laughed and giggled, fire touched golden hair bouncing along with the movement, when Seiya once again tugged on his suit.

 

Seiya blinked, and found Taiki’s eyes, inhaling.

 

He nodded, slowly. “Yeah,” he said, not sure if it was true.

 

But then he looked back behind him, where he could still see the edge of Mamoru’s tux sleeve, shaking hands so very happily…

 

And it was ok.

 

“Yeah,” Seiya repeated, smiling this time.

 

L

 

 

Usagi heard the music start faintly, when Makoto pushed the bouquet into her hands, along with Mamoru’s boutonniere, and squeezed her hands one last time with the warmest, most encouraging Makoto smile, before she, too, disappeared from the room, on her way down to the altar before her. Leaving her behind, alone now.

 

Usagi exhaled slowly, her ear at the door, even when she wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone.

 

She opened it slowly, hands clammy, when she heard the loud bang of the shutting double doors – Minako’s signal. Coast was clear. Her turn to go.

 

Her heart ran a marathon when she turned the corner, the little flower buds all shaking in her trembling grip, to the backdrop of faint music coming from within the hall.

 

Violin and piano. Michiru and Haruka. Playing a mash-up of every wedding song on the planet, because Usagi hadn’t been able to decide.

 

And then there he stood, in his gorgeous, embroidered tux, alone in front of the closed double doors.

 

She smiled when she saw his hands were shaking, too, when she came up to him slowly, and the way he gripped those white gloves between his hands.

 

She panicked for a moment, should she have left hers off too?

 

“Hi,” he whispered, and she was shaken from her thoughts, smiling back up at him, giggling a little embarrassedly.

 

“Hi,” she breathed back, her smile becoming broader, and then, without a word, handed him her bouquet, a little clumsily, and reached up to fasten the boutonniere to his lapel, with entirely too shaky hands that made him chuckle softly. A white rose.

 

They didn’t need words, of course. She’d felt the flutter and awe when he’d laid eyes on her dress, saw the slight rosy blush on his cheeks that was so very unlike him.

 

She lowered herself back onto the heels of her feet, standing back, and he handed her the bouquet back, as she swallowed once more.

 

His eyes weren’t nervous anymore, as they gazed into hers intently.

 

He held his hand out to her, smiling.

 

“Shall we?” he asked, voice quiet, but like silk.

 

She nodded, took his hand, lacing their fingers together and broke into a smile around the happy, gorgeous, giant lump in her throat and gut, when the double doors opened, and her friends and everyone she knew rose, turning back for them, to that crazy, pummeling feeling in her heart.

 

“Yes,” she whispered back, as they stepped onto the carpet, hand in hand. “Yes, we shall.”

 

L

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And yes it’s a very, very wow moment to write these words.)
> 
> Right, so… you can find me on tumblr (same name), or you can DROP ME A REVIEW xD
> 
> I thanked you all in the last chapter. But I will do it again. THANK YOU! For reading, for encouraging me, for sharing the fandom love with me!
> 
> I hope you liked this little epilogue only half as much as my wonderful beta, UglyGreenJacket, did, and the story in general, and that maybe it stays in your mind, cause I would like that.
> 
> Please, PLEASE, if you’ve come this far, it means you read about 300k words of Ikigai and Yugen. Please let me know what you thought of it? No matter when you read this? I would love to hear from you!


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